Saturday, 28 March 2009


I’m SICK. I’m POORLY. I not feel well no more. I have a cold, or a sore throat and a fuzzy head and a cough and the sniffles so it’s as close to a cold as any other virus. It’s okay, I’m not asking for sympathy or attention. I shall stiffen my upper lip and square my shoulders and carry on goddammit!

Not that I have a choice because The Babe had the cold first and she is demanding attention, and fussing constantly. No British fortitude, her. She’s whinging like a baby all the time. Wait. Oh. Yeah. She is a…. Right.

She’s been pouring snot all week. I’m sorry for the bluntness there. I’ve been skirting prettily around it all week “oh she’s a bit sniffly, she has a streaming nose, she’s under the weather.” Enough. She is a snot machine and she is disgusting! I can’t get a hair brush through her hair because she keeps smearing runny bogies across her cheeks and into her hairline. Complete strangers are stopping me in the street to discuss the comparative properties of the differing shades of snot - apparently green snot isn’t good, it is a sign of illness. As far as I’m concerned no snot is good, it’s all nasty and you only get snot when you are ill so of course green snot is a sign of illness. Like duh. I haven’t said that yet, I’m the queen of tact, but one more sleepless night this week and I’m likely to crack.

Gosh. Sorry. Bit of a rant there.

Anyway, so I’m sick and I’m tired and just for today I’m letting my upper lip quiver. Sniffle.

And I still don’t have a new car.

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