As I go on my summer holiday later this week, my plan was to write and schedule a whole host of fascinating and intriguing posts – well, mediocre posts at the very least- to occupy and distract from that fact that I am no where near my computer. However, I haven’t even managed to write much – actually nothing as it happens due to the onset of one hell of a summer cold. This may sound fairly pathetic, I know what I would be thinking if I read the word ‘cold’ as an excuse for lack of posting but there is nothing like end-of-term-plague to floor someone, even if they have only worked part time this year!
My face is currently like a pillow – puffy and stuffed full. My nose is the same colour as my hair (red, if you are unsure) which is never a good thing, particularly when the skin is starting to break. The cough is the most painful though. With an already sore throat, each hack seems to work to give my already red raw larynx another thirty lashes – the insides of my chest feel like they have been through the cheese grater. It is a miserable state which I find myself in – I spent the entirety of yesterday in bed, and the vast majority of today which is no where near as much fun as you would think – can’t concentrate on reading, knitting or films and Steve is so worried of catching the black death that he keeps his distance! I think each cuppa would have been delivered whilst wearing a gas mask if he could have arranged it.
I would admit to feeling sorry for myself it is true – its not often I feel this wretched. I think I was ruined as a child to be honest, because instead of being ignored and told to get on with it, I was comforted so perfectly that I crave it still as an adult. I don’t want to have to make decisions or any kind of effort. I want to be wrapped in blankets, fed toast and soup and custard (not simultaneously – eugh) and supplied with more tea and lemsips than I could shake a stick at – why would I be shaking a stick at hot beverages? See, the poorliness has addled my fragile little mind. There is no other point in time to feel more disgusting and useless than when you feel like you are drowning in your own lurgy. It may not be life threatening or at all important, but I am going to complain all the same. Then go back to the tissue mountain I am cultivating on the bed and fall asleep beneath it – until the choking wakes me again just in time for the next tea delivery!
If normal service does not resume tomorrow, there may be a black hole for a while – I shall attempt to schedule some posts but I apologise if I don’t make it. Treat yourself to a little blogless holiday for a week or so, but please, do come back. Who knows, after an injection of culture I may even have something vaguely interesting to say rather than self indulgent whines about coughs and colds!!