January 26th 2018

Today is my third consecutive bedridden day. This cold has destroyed me. I’m angry at the cold for infecting me, I’m angry at myself for allowing it, I’m angry at my house for making me feel claustrophobic and I’m angry at the outside world because every time I try to stand up my head hurts. You might say I’m milking this, but my Mum offered to drive down to my house with cooked food today, so clearly… it’s working.

Alice and I spent the day in bed and watched, between naps, 15 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. That’s almost quite impressive work. 15 episodes at 40 minutes per episode is 10 hours of Grey’s Anatomy. I’m basically a doctor now.

I did feel bad, though, complaining about my dry throat and sinus blockage whilst watching 8-year old kids have heart transplants. Sure, the guy with the fishing boat anchor stuck through his ribcage looked in quite a lot of pain, but the difference between his impalement and my ailment is that he’s an actor and my cough actually hurts. So there, I win.

Around episode 10 we got hungry, and so to make sure we re-nutrioned our bodies, and to make sure we got all the required vitamins and minerals needed to fight off a cold, we did the only sensible thing and ordered a Dominos Pizza.


To be fair, it’s not that unhealthy… Alice only had a medium pizza. I had a large, but it had onions on it. So that’s like one of my five a day, right? Probably.

For desert we’re gonna have half a bottle of Night Nurse each.

Until tomorrow, how proper romantic.


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