First cold of the season.
Feverish, cranky, feels like flesh is crammed full of electrified cotton wool.
Big storm the other day.
No electricity.
Laying in dark feeling sorry for self.
Won't leave candle burning as keep having visions of burning to death, snot streaming from corpse as it plunges from the second storey window and face-plants in downstairs' herb garden.
Contemplating new career as country and blues singer with wonderful new woeful material.
Mull this idea over and decide leaving the candle burning would be preferable.
Electricity back on.
Light bad.
Milk in fridge gone wrong.
Return to blanket cocoon and reinforce protective minefield of tissues around bed.
Call work.
Don't want to go in.
They don't want me in either.
Germs go through workplace like the plague.
Stupid building-wide ventilation system, stupid non-opening windows.
Return to bed.
Glad nose all blocked up.
Bet bedroom smells like a giant's armpit.
Over-judicious application of medicated lozenges, skin scalding hot showers and hot lemon with honey.
Cats taking advantage of semi-comatose fever paralysis to use body as heated couch.
Too tired to protest.
Still not dead.
Still pretty gross.
Settle in to wait for immune system to resolve industrial dispute and fix this shit up.
Could be a while.
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