January 12th 2017

Today I’m drowning in a pool of my own self pity – and Night Nurse. I’m drowning in a pool of Night Nurse. I’m shotting back cocktails of finely crushed ibuprofen dissolved in honey and lemon Locket flavoured Night Nurse with a Lemsip Max infusion.


I mean, I’m not really. I’ve had two Lemsips and a throat sweet. I wish I could neck a couple of Long Island Iced GlaxoSmithKlines.

I feel shitty. I feel really shitty. My cold starts in my brain (pounding headaches) visits my eyes (it hurts to focus on things, and it hurts to blink, and it hurts to have my eyes closed) it skips my nose and goes to my throat, where I seem to be housing a medium-sized poison dart frog. After that, the cold floods through my entire body, including my right forearm – which is still swollen from when I fell down the stairs yesterday.

All in all, I’m in a bad way.

I mean, it’s made worse because I’ve allowed myself to sink into the slums of self-pity, and I feel very very sorry for myself, which just goes to worsen my condition.

I’ve got that annoying type of cold (man flu) where I am simultaneously too hot and too cold. I’m sweating with a hoody on whilst my teeth chatter.

And, of course, I can’t remember the last time that my life was normal. I can’t remember what it’s like to be healthy.

Until tomorrow, man flu has broken me.


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