I have been trying to avoid catching a cold, figuring that I really don't want 'being sick' on top of everything else; but these things can't be avoided forever. So here I am, snorting into my hankie, drinking ginger and lemon tea with honey, and hot chocolate laced with Woodford Reserve (yes, that which I bought for Mr H; I'm sure he won't mind).
It's not flu (if you can get out of bed, it's not flu, ok you men reading this? ha), and it's not 'a stinking cold' as my mother likes to describe them. It's just an everyday, run-of-the-mill cold.
But I'm here on my own, hobbling around with no desire to decide what to eat; so I reserve the right to feel sorry for myself for a few days, ok?