I called in sick and stayed at home today. I know that’s not unusual for me, but this time it was genuine. This Summer cold is an absolute bastard. I kept waking up last night soaked in sweat and feeling dizzy. Then this morning I felt exhausted and dopey. I got up for a cup of tea, then fell asleep in an armchair. Then I had some bran flakes, then I fell asleep on the sofa. Then I had a quick shower, then I fell asleep on the bed. At ten o’clock I gave up and called work to tell them I wasn’t going in. Since then I’ve spent the day shivering, then sweating, then sleeping, then having weird vivid dreams involving skydiving and mopeds, then waking up shivering, then sweating, etc, etc. And I swear I’ve never been thirstier in my life. This may be the first day ever that I’ve drunk the eight glasses of water the so-called scientists tell us we should drink. I feel bloody awful. It’s the first decent run of weather we’ve had in this county in a decade; the first opportunity to get out and enjoy the world and milk all it has to offer; and I’m stuck indoors fighting off some cold bug that I probably picked up from a fat sneezing pensioner at work.
I’m off to bed now, pausing only at the kettle for a Lemsip.
RC 28-7-13
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