Urrrg. I suppose it was inevitable. I've got a hell of a cold right now. Drowsy eyes, blocked nose, a cough that rips a little bit of your throat out as it exits your mouth, the works.
It doesn't help that it's bloody cold here.
The weather forecast shows that it's 30ºF in Belfast and 40ºF in Liverpool. While that may not sound like a big difference, let me put it this way: one is below freezing, one is not. I don't know whether it's the climate or the fact that I was already ill, but I haven't actually stopped shivering since I arrived here. As for the cough, well it's been slowly surfacing over the past couple of days. I have to give my body credit though, it managed to fend off that little shite until Christmas was over. But of course that does leave me wide awake at 4am on Boxing Day with watery eyes that are preventing me from even reading over half of what I've just typed out. Hurrah.
So bloody tired, I need sleep so I can go into town tomorrow (today, whatever) and buy lots of random crap!
Bah humbug!
The past few months have been pretty damn good to me and I had a nice enough Christmas too, so if me spending Boxing day in a moderate amount of pain every time I breathe means that somehow the Universe balances out and someone who's had a worse year than me gets a good day instead, then I guess it's only fair.
Or maybe I'm just talking complete crap because I'm tired and can't sleep, who knows?
I'll be damned if viruses keep me indoors though!
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