29th July - Birds that have swallowed plates.

'You look like a bird that has swallowed a plate' - says Blackadder, referring to Lord Percy's ridiculous Elizabethan ruff.

Well, I may not be a ruff wearer (why not, I hear you cry? Good question, I believe firmly that the decorative neck ruff is well overdue a comeback.) but the line did come to my head this morning when I woke up and discovered that my sore throat had gone from merely 'sore' to 'flipping red raw and uncomfortable'. Less like having swallowed a mere plate, and more like having swallowed a sizable plate lined with razor blades, with salt accompaniment like a margerita, but without any of the pleasurable after effects.

In short, I feel like utter utter crap.

In fact, to return to the ruff theme of today, a ruff would indeed be of some use to me, in disguising the huge proportions that my glands have swollen to. You know those Borneo Orangutans that have very flat, disc-like faces, with huge jowels? That's what I look like. An orangutan. A sodding orangutan.

Combined to this the pervading feeling of severe nausea, the upset stomach, the exhaustion and yes, the conclusion can be that I am one sick simian indeed. (no ironic comedy comments please, soooo not in the mood.)

D is not sick. This in itself is great. I don't like it when my little boy is all snivelly and poorly and looking all sad. However, it wouldn't be too much of an undesirable thing for D to just be...how can I phrase this...a leeeeetttlle bit calmer. Just a smidge. Chasing after D while he hares from room to room is one thing. Hands always ready to grab when he reaches for remote controls, flower pots, dvd players, cups of boiling hot honey and lemon, I can just about still manage. But when D decides to have an enormous tantrum about not being able to hold the wooden spoon (which I was trying to stir his soup with at the time), which results in his shrieking loud enough for the neighbours to hear (let alone his poor gran, attempting to see another client in the neighbouring room) and then seizing a glass in a huff and throwing it to the floor...that I draw the line at. Picture if you will, a snotty, groggy me, trying to balance a screaming D on one hip, the other hand scrabbling round on the floor for bits of sharded glass, narrowly missing severing several major arteries, both in my hands and my bare feet.

So, in short, I think I may well retreat to bed soon. Ruffless and somewhat glum.

That is, if a certain someone feels like having a nap...

Hmm. Maybe not then.