Blame it on the lettuce. I was having a session with my “life coach” – ahem – yesterday at a hotel in Beverly Hills. For lunch I ate a salad that showed no signs whatsoever of being injurious but which must have contained some ghastly parasites or something because by the end of the afternoon I was feeling really unwell.
I had a dinner appointment last night at The Peninsula, a different hotel in Beverly Hills, but quite aside from the fact that the food there was rather horrible, I could barely eat anything anyway and left the table twice to throw up, a theme that continued throughout the night and well into this morning, forcing me to let the BBC know that I couldn’t make the show tonight. I’ve only missed it through illness twice in twelve years, so that’s not too bad.
Sorry to everyone who was looking forward to staying awake until almost dawn to catch it, but I’m told they found a worthy replacement and that person will be doing it instead.
Ironically, at this moment I’m starting to feel fine again. I fasted all day and my system is correcting itself, so I probably could have rushed in and done the broadcast after all. But maybe it’s best that the fans get at least one decent night’s sleep in the build-up to the holiday season.
All being well, and in particular my stomach being well, I’ll be back next week.