Saturday morning, a list clutched in my hand as we ventured out early. A few things to buy, a couple of things to do, a productive day stretched ahead.
Saturday afternoon, things have been bought, and one item on the list has been started but not finished.
This is largely due to the rapid onset of a sore throat, possibly brought about whilst trying (and failing) to wash the car using a Karcher pressure washer that we inherited from the my in-laws.
I always know when I’m not well, I tend to be a ‘sleeper’ when I’m ill as I very quickly lose all sense of energy and waves of complete lethargy wash over me. My legs become wobbly and unstable, and so I sleep. And sleep.
Admittedly the Calcutta Cup game didn’t help with said lethargy…
At this point I should probably tell the story of the time I was very ill, knew I was very ill but my Mother sent me to school anyway.
Long story short, I had the chickenpox and a day or so later I was bed-ridden and delirious. It might well have been the most ill I’ve ever been. And my Mother sent me to school. Happy Mother’s Day? Sheesh!!
Looking back, whilst I didn’t realise how ill I was, it was the same type of symptoms that I get today. Doesn’t seem to matter HOW ill I am, it’s the same type of thing, and the same solutions apply. Sleep and cravings for comfort food.
So, after 11 hours sleep last night I managed to crawl out of my death bed and visit my Mum to make sure she knows just how fab she is, and that I really, truly, don’t hold any grudges about that day.
Now, have I ever mentioned how my Mum wouldn’t let me have a denim jacket when I was younger?