Well, I'm at home with the lurgy. I feel a bit pathetic really - it's only a cold. Except my head is fizzing like an over-excited coke with added mentos sweets and the rest of me is shivery and wobbly. I feel rather sorry for myself actually!
It presents another trial by food. When I'm ill, I'm definitely of the school whereby I try to eat anything (and everything) I fancy to eat myself through it - does eating this make me feel better? Noooo, still feel rubbish - well, what about this then? And so it goes on. I feel a urgent need to treat myself to every chocolatey, sugary, naughty thing going. I'm not doing this. It's very hard. I know that it won't make me feel better physically of course, but psychologically it would. For a bit. Until the shame sets in (shame tastes like sugar overload to me) and my next encounter with SoD (tomorrow!) leaves me weeping, wailing and self-castigating. My teeth are currently gritted and I'm not a happy bunny. And all bets are off tomorrow if SoD is sodding about! I want some acknowledgement of this sacrifice and my toughing it out whilst feeling feeble and wussy.
I counted as best I could over the weekend. I think I'm way under points - primarily because I've earnt almost 60 in the last week. A 5 hour yomp on Saturday boosted that tremendously. We pegged it along, consious that we had to be back in time to spruce up before setting off to meet our glampers chez leurs. Chez leur tente actually. A dash of franglais there! Unlike the weather which was pure English. I listened to the rain lashing the tin hut on Friday night and hoped that our friends woke up dry and snug. And bf and I went home with assorted mozzie bites on Saturday post BBQ and I had to put the fire on to defrost! Again, was thinking of doughtier friends, with just some polyester encased feathers to warm them. At least they didn't have wood pigeons tap dancing on the roof at 5am on Sunday. Or I assume not, anyway. I hope I didn't leave them with the souvenir of my lurgy. Especially since they've got a 1 year old toddler. My name may be mud in that household.