Blah

I'm not a good patient. I get:

a) mopey
b) much in need of sympathy
c) cross with everyone who tries to be sympathetic and nice to me
d) melodramatic. I am not often unwell and haven't been to the doctor for about 4 years now so when the lurgy does strike me I don't just feel a bit ill, I am POORLY. In capitals, obviously. Am currently feeling rather like a TB victim with a throat that has been set on fire.

So today, when I haven't been bitching and moaning about the unfairness of being ill whilst I'm still on my holidays, I have been doing the following:

Resorting to comfort food. Alphabetti spaghetti on toast anyone?

Trying not to get too cross with Oscar for relentlessly walking across the duvet between me and the laptop. I love him very dearly but why does he do this? Why not just lie down and go to sleep?

Dosing myself with every manner of cold/flu remedy I could find. I'm not quite melodramatic enough to call it flu - that word should be reserved only for when you're feeling too deathly ill to move. It's decidedly unpleasant though. I seem to be blowing my nose a ridiculous amount in the morning, feeling generally shitty in the afternoon and then coughing my head off in the evening. Fun eh?

Reading. Obviously. But I'm not showing you which ones as they fall into the category affectionately described by a pal as "literary filth". I should probably clarify that this isn't porn or anything, just the sort of stuff with hunkily bare chested men on the cover. Also a couple of the JD Robb "In Death" series which I've started rereading from the beginning.

Making some foccacia/herby flatbread type stuff and then eating it, part plain, part slathered with sundried tomato tapenade. Yum! Feed a cold, starve a fever, right? That's my excuse anyway.

Having a little cry over the news that beautiful, brave Monet's Garden is on the verge of death. Then crying a little bit more when I got the post and had an update from Redwings, a charity I support. I loathe and despise the fact that someone can starve 36 poor, defenceless ponies practically to the point of death (and 4 of them did die) and then get 100 hours community service as a punishment. The justice system is pathetic.



Watching Tim Minchin's dvd. It's cheered me up slightly as he's very funny but I am still having one of those resolutely meh days. I hate days like this. I feel as if I should be doing something but I have no idea what I actually want to do. Perhaps I'll turn out the wardrobe or something.