Disaster. Not because GB didn't win any golds, or even because in 2 days time the 'lympics will be over sparking mass countrywide gloom.
No, today i have a cold which by the evening turned into something terminal. It's flu folks. Not just any old flu, man flu. Clear the decks people. This is going to be ugly.
It has been a struggle to write this. Raising myself from the sofa, through moans and strains of 'oooouuurrgggghhhhhh' (i actually live on my own so i don't know why i am groaning loudly - there is no-one here to give me sympathy?) - I managed to tap out my poorly little fingers whilst sniffling and feeling really sorry for myself.
Women give us guys stick over being pathetic and wimpy when ill. I disagree, i am noble and spirited .......well for around 10 minutes anyway. I then descend into a 5 year old, constantly wanting attention, brow mopping, people to say 'ahhhhhhhh', constant streams of mind numbing TV & Boiled eggs & soldiers to be delivered by a nurse in really high heels.
When i get ill, energy rapidly going, aches starting, head pounding i basically turn into Genghis Khan. Crabby, grumpy, snappy, miserable. Anyone can have it. The best place for me is to be quarantined at home away from the world. It's damage limitation. Oh and i am over dramatic so that the slightest thing is built to a Shakespeare tragedy & of course if i am not texted every 10 minutes by people enquiring about my health i feel lonely & forgotten. Told you - 5 year olds are more grown up than me when ill.
So with all that in mind i had agreed to take someone to a really busy Friday afternoon Chelsea & Westminster hospital. I have learnt in 11 years in AA to keep your trap shut, not moan, complain and be ungrateful. But Waiting for ages, going from department to department, blood slowly boiling. I thought they should clear a bed for me to lay down on but apparently i wasn't ill enough. Bastards.
I saw 3 little kids in x ray with terrible burns which gave me a shot of perspective. They were playing without a care in the world despite terrible burns and disfigurement, They were adorable. I was ashamed of myself. I vowed never to be so awful or ungrateful again. I vowed to myself To be kind & have a better attitude. No matter how grim i felt.
Within 30 minutes i was in Southside shopping centre Wandsworth shouting at the Manageress of H&M.
1 step forward 8 back. I didn't say i was that well did i?
Apparently every single balloon head in SW London decided to go to South side, including me.Why? Well any shopping centre that has Primark & TK Max should give you a clue as to the kind of clientele. Queues, waiting times, people. Oh god what was i thinking of? Even the mass of leoparde print leggings pissed me off.
An attempt to return a jacket in H&M ended in an enormous queue and me advising the Manageress how to deploy 1 of the 4 girls in the empty dressing room to the tills. When she disagreed, i thought of that 11 years of experience in AA again - 'does it need to be said, does it need to be said by me, does it need to be said by me now' - I thought fuck yes & that is when Evans pulled the loud shouting voice out of the locker. It wasn't pretty but it got the job done. I made amends to her later, though i still think i was right.
Then a painful trip to Waitrose, which i swear to god was like going to Syria. Traumatic. The woman in front of me decided to return several items to the aisles, get some washing powder and then have 2 cards rejected before waiting for her hubby to bring money. I reckon it took longer than the Olympic opening ceremony, Fuck me i was melting. Please god help me not machete this woman to death.
It was imperative i left this painful place immediately and lock myself away in peace before i pissed anyone else off. A retreat to the sofa to watch the Olympics., preferably with ice cream, chocolate buttons, lemsip and Kleenex (though the Rhythmic Gymnastics wasn't on so the Kleenex was for legitimate reasons)
There were No GB gold medals tonight, though plenty of boxing action. A few bronzes and silver in sailing but The track & field was pretty dire,. It looks like it's all on Mo Farah on Sat night. The perfect end maybe?
From the safety of my sofa i did manage to snap at a couple of people by text and piss them off and also be really grouchy on the phone to someone. That's proper good shitty form isn't it? Even from my sick bed (sofa) I'm still able to muster up enough energy to be sharp, cutting and rude to someone and hurt their feelings. #Cunt.
I'll man up readers and soldier on throughout the night. I am convinced that when men get flu and colds it reacts with their DNA structure to create a Super Virus. Like the Terminator of Viruses. It renders us useless and is far worse than female flu. Like 10 times stronger. But fear not I'll brave on, I'll hide my phone and lock myself away so i don't be horrid to anyone.
I won't be dramatic or wimpy or get crap man syndrome, having said that if i get worse and the cold turns to real flu I'll be on the phone to 999 and if there is no blog tomorrow you know i wouldn't have made it.................
loving you lots readers cough cough
xx
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