After spending the Christmas holiday hacking my lungs up and generally sounding like an entire chorus of consumptives, I've managed to duck and dive every cold in the interim. Despite being surrounded by sick people and their miasma of a grotty viruses and bacteria I've been disease teflon.
Until Friday morning, of course, the start of the four day Easter weekend, when we celebrate the miracle of Space Chicken laying the Magic Bunny Egg. Itchy throat. Headache. Open the floodgates of mucus.
Of course, it's Tuesday now so it's on the way out, though I'm still coughing up things that look suspiciously like exotic deep sea life-forms and I have those glutinous snot bubbles that seem to fill your head before popping through your ears. They always form when I'm trying to speak forcing me to make a strange ga-ah-AH noise as my head basically becomes airtight.
I also spent six hours yesterday making a start on the garden. Despite pulling up tonnes of brambles and having arms that look like I picked a fight with a feline samurai it looks completely unchanged. I may just fly over it in an F4 and drop canisters of agent orange. Oh, and there's a 80 foot fir tree listing to port that'll probably need to come down and some cracking in the render on the side of the house that'll need fixing. I'm like the human cash machine.
