The dreams associated with this bloody illness are the weirdest ever. I am being driven aimlessly around a French landscape, but with great urgency. When I wake up, which seems to be every hour or so, nothing happens. I make myself have a drink of water and the moment I try to go back to sleep, we are off again. I feel like one of the little dots of light on Jo's map demonstrating London hire bike usage. The annoying part is that the sensation doesn't even stop when I decide to relieve the monotony by going for a crap. My fevered brain just won't switch off.
Sod it, I think I will make a cup of tea.