I thought I was the witness of a descending rapture of the heavens this afternoon in the toilet at work, but it was just the Christmas Carol choir practicing in the meeting room next door.
At the moment I'm sick of feeling sick. I have the feeling I'm coughing through the night but have stopped waking myself up with it - my only clue to this is when I had a bit of a sleep-in on Saturday and The Hun told me I'd been coughing all morning. That and the way that what used to feel likea good old cough to clear the lungs while I had a runny nose and stuffy head now elicits only a half hearted bark, a cringe and a pout. I'm back to being headachey, blowing my nose in that embarassing way that usually requires more than one tissue and feeling like I've got a filter somewhere in my chest that needs a good poking with a pipecleaner to empty the vents. It doesn't help that I just finished a book about a hypochondriac having a breakdown that I actually quite enjoyed, but has me half believing that perhaps I have a chest infection that's going to devolve itself into pneumonia or bronchitis or lawd knows what. So not only am I sick of being sick and tired of being tired, but now you're probably bored, full stop.
I should proddly just stop this one right here, for the sake of all involved.
28 sleeps to go!
PS - After all of my whinging about uni I got my marks back on Friday - two distinctions, my best ever! Seems the ticket is a delicate balance between cramming at the very last minute and attending all the lectures and tutes, even if you don't absorb a whole lot. I should patent that sh!t right there.
*This is the song that The Hun and I seem to sing any time we feel even a little tired... know it?