Influenza

How on earth have I managed to contract a nasty case of the flu in this beautiful weather? It’s now Tuesday afternoon and, after such a lovely Saturday on the river, I have spent the last three days feeling like death with no visible light at the end of the tunnel. I have the full complement of enjoyable symptoms: Aches, shivers, nausea and a sore head in addition to your bog-standard common cold. For someone that hardly ever gets ill at home, let alone in a place where it’s summer all year round, I am not coping very well and want more than anything to miraculously recover. Like, now please. There’s just something pathetic about spending your days huddled in a blanket on the sofa, especially when the weather is this gorgeous; I should be on the beach, damn it! The saddest part is that, after working my way through the first three seasons of Sex and The City, I’ve resorted to watching crappy musicals like Mamma Mia (Jess doesn’t have Grease on DVD). I’m not built for spending my days cooped up indoors!

As a grown adult, it pains me to admit that the worst thing about feeling this rubbish is the fact that my Mum’s not here to look after me! I’m fully capable of making myself a cup of tea, but it’s a whole lot better when one magically appears by your sickbed without you having to move. I’m doing all I can to recover speedily (drinking a monumental amount of water and only moving when I need to eat or pee), so fingers crossed I’m upright and freely mobile in the next few days. If you don’t hear from me by the weekend, I’ve probably died in bed surrounded by empty mugs and romcoms. Tragic.