One of the disadvantages of living in a large city is being exposed to viruses and bacteria spread by fellow human beings. That’s especially true of Moscow with its long winters and, especially, endless falls sometimes lasting into early January. Getting sick with something flu-like three or four times a year now seems more or less the norm to me. There’s hardly a time in the office when no one has a stuffy nose or a sore throat. The regular flu is familiar and understandable, even when the virus is chased by a bacterial infection that only antibiotics can put down. What saps off vital energy is a low-intensity malaise with headaches and variable throat soreness. It can carry on for weeks and yet be never acute enough to take a single day off or persuade a doctor to do something about it. It’s murdering my time but it’s not The Enduring Chill so far.