So I’m sick. I’ve been sick all weekend actually, and had the day off yesterday. I went in today, mainly to do my presentation, but only got to 11am before the rest of my firm sent me home. I felt terrible – and looked it too apparently (not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing).
So I am alive but I still have to do that presentation. Yay, lucky me.
I hate being ill. I’m completely rubbish at it, and feel very guilty. But I must let myself actually get better this time. Because if I don’t, it’ll end up like last term. Last term, I carried on, never properly recovering from several bouts of flu-like symptoms. I spent much of the term feeling depressed, mainly because my health was below par all the time. I cried a lot on the phone to my mum. She was sympathetic at first then got cross. ‘It’s because you don’t take care of yourself!’ she ranted, and I have to concede that she was (and always is) right.
As an aside, is the ability to always be right a gift of the Gods, achieved after the divine sacrifice of the placenta?
So I am on a regime of early nights and no drinking this week. Ready for the weekend, when my little bro and little cousin are coming to stay for some hard-core student partying.
Oh dear. I had better start praying for a miracle cure…