There’s no denying that I had a bad night. I dozed
on and off until half past seven in between coughing and sniffing fits before
getting up and spending a couple of hours on the sofa continuing to cough and
sniff until my stomach hurt.
I must admit to being
really hacked off with this COVID lark; the last time I had it, I wasn’t ill at
all. The rules said that I had to stay away from everyone else all the time
that I was infectious and so I effectively had a bonus week’s holiday. When I
was told yesterday that I can’t come in to work for a week I thought I might
get another.
But this time I’m ill.
I spent most of the day
on the sofa watching all sorts of tripe. “Blue Planet” and a documentary
about snow leopards on the Eden channel, something about a huge oil tanker, and
more “Four In A Bed” in which the woman who’d spent three episodes
telling everyone how clean her place was had dust thick enough in which to
write your name.
Once
she’d done her day’s work “er indoors TM” drove “Daddy’s Little Angel TM”, “Darcie Waa
Waa TM” and Pogo home. As we’d all gone down with disease it
seemed sensible to suffer together, but with “Darcie Waa Waa TM”
seemingly on the mend “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” thought it
best to go home.
As
they went home I was charged with making our dinner. I have a special recipe; I
chop up all the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner and bung it in a pot together
with all the apples and bananas and pineapples that “Darcie Waa Waa TM”
hadn’t finished. I then stick a little water into the brown sauce and
ketchup bottles that are almost (but not quite) empty and squirt that in
the pot, then have a rummage round the fridge and the cupboards to see what
else I can find. I let it all simmer for an hour or so before serving it all up
with rice. Bish bosh(!)
As I cooked I dug out
the thermometer and measured my temperature. It was thirty-eight degrees (Celsius)
which is high enough to
count as a fever.
I said I was poorly…
Mind you today’s step count was over a thousand…
just.
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