Pity me. I’ve been struck down in the prime of the bank holiday with some sort of head-achey cold hybrid monster.
I had planned to be up early this morning and run over to Brockwell Lido for a swim. Instead I’ve been lolling around feeling sorry for myself. My throat feels as though it’s got a shard of glass stuck in it, very specifically on the right hand side, at the top. My head has been banging so badly that last night I didn’t sleep at all. Instead I wasted Sunday’s daylight hours asleep on the sofa after painkillers finally kicked in. My nose is running on and off, and my skin feels super-sensitive and sore. It’s a bit of a let-down as bank holiday weekends go. Continue reading “The whiniest woman in the west”