Blech!

I.  Feel.  Awful.

It is now official that I am the world's worst person at being ill.  I don't think the Men and they're Flu have anything on me.

Went to work this morning feeling rubbish - lethargic, completely bunged up, dry mouth because I have to breathe through it constantly and a head full of pressure.  Had a fairly unproductive day because a) it was my first day back for 2 weeks and I moved desks whilst I was away, so there was a mountain of email and unpacking to sort, and b) well, I just feel shit.

Went to meet a newly Bristol-based friend for a couple of drinks after work - couldn't taste the cocktails really at all.  Went home.  Couldn't taste dinner at all.  Seriously - I had pesto - couldn't smell it in the jar, couldn't taste it apart from the slightest hint of salt.  Had a small portion of rice-pudding and jam for dessert - again - apart from the barest hint of sweet - nothing.  De nada.  Rien.

Lay on my rug under a blanket by the heater feeling sorry for myself and reading for a bit whilst trying to get warm.  I'm off to bed now, but don't expect I'll sleep much better than last night when I woke constantly, and then dreamt twice that I died.  First in a car crash, and woke with an almighty jolt literally gasping for air, and then later dreaming I was drowning in thick, gloopy mud in a swamp (hey - can't breathe with the cold ... wonder how I got to dreams of drowning, huh?).

I very much suspect that tomorrow will be a rare sick day, unless something miraculous happens over night.  On the upside - at least my razor-blade throat has gone for the minute.