I've probably used this title before. Tis the season of viral discontent, just before violets burst forth (or fifth) into a wasted land... well, actually that's a harsh word for my backyard, which is looking quite spiffy these days. I however have resumed the famous Panda-eyes stance. Bugger it!
It's not the oinky flu, just a cold. But it hit fast and hard on Friday night, and I've had no sense of smell and considerable discomfort ever since.
Things which I can't do - which pisses me off mightily:
- lie down without something aching
- see anyone
- enjoy my lattes
- go to see a dear one who's in hospital and in need of a spot of solidarity
- dig the garden, comb the lawn or ajax the roof
- get on a plane to see rellies and have a spend
- enjoy the merest hint of a purrfume
- go to crafty
Thing I can do - which are cold comfort:
- wear my new purple pjs all day
- drink coffee and remember how it tastes
- knit, crochet, fiddle with fabric and suffer textile delusions of grandeur
- think about my reunion with the young chappy who has stolen my heart
- whinge in print
- play my dopey computer game and get a better score
- spend lots of time with M - actually that's pretty warm comfort so it shouldn't be on this list.
Amazing how a microscopic thingy can cause such havoc with the whole body.
I sent out an SOS for banana cake and my darling mama obliged. It's got about an inch of icing and it's moist and delicious. Well, I *think* it's delicious! Thanks mum. If a cure could be brought about by mere cake, this one would be a contender.
Now, back to the tissue box and a bit of grizzling...
Today brought to you by nothing at all. DAMMIT!!
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