The dreaded lurgy has finally caught up with me. After smugly telling friends over drinks last night how "I never get sick", I now have all of the symptoms of a sick person: headaches, cold, sore throat and the inability to regulate body temperature. This has resulted in me spending two days in the flat feeling sorry for myself and venturing only as far as Barry's to stock up on more Beechams and trash magazines. Poor Ollie is also at home recovering from a minor eye operation, so the two of us are feeling a little pathetic at the moment.
However, it is better that we are ill now and not in a couple of weeks when we are going to Paris. So excited.
Also, this is the point where I offer another half-arsed justification for not writing the blog for a couple of weeks. The truth is, I have actually been really busy. The history department at Goldsmiths have seen fit to pile huge quantities of work upon their students in the first couple of weeks of term. I thought this would be at the detriment of my social life, but previous commitments and obligations have been kept, so what I have actually sacrificed is my sleep and my alone time. This probably explains why I am ill.
So over the past few weeks I have been to watch Flash Fiktion play in Brixton followed by drinks in Ivans Retreat (sadly the lovely Laura was working and unable to hang out with us), I have been to Bristol for the engagement party of Simon and Natalie and for breakfast with Thom the following day, I have entertained friends and family and had many great dinners out and home-cooked dinners in. I am ashamed to say that I have not yet made it to Club Sandwich, although my early start on Thursday kind of prevents this. My office is not very hangover-friendly.
So I fully intend to write more. But hopefully I will make time in my life for it, not just wait until I am housebound and bedbound xx
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