It's twenty-five to five in the afternoon and I'm just up.
Yesterday I went to my GP who told me that was actually something wrong with me and it couldn't have made me happier. The thought that I have been miserbale and unwell for 10 days now and it turns out to be nothing would be too much to take. Hence, the fact that I do have something wrong with me, despite the obvious misery that brings, does actually make the pain and discomfort somewhat more worthwhile.
If you want to know just how bad it is, because I have been told I shouldn't talk (by the GP that is, not by the Labour Party) I didn't go to yesterday's council meeting ... the first I have ever missed. I didn't get the chance to rip Labour's budget apart and vote against their 4.7% max tax hike. Bugger. But I'm sure everyone there would have known that if I was there I would have voted against it.
I can now cuddle up with my antibiotics, series 3 of Spooks on DVD and a very large bowl of Rice Krispies to relax.