Yesterday was a bad day.
It was nothing to do with it being Easter or even a Sunday. It was just a bad day though it might have been better if the Grandkids had been around, but they weren’t. The times that are in it and all that.
It all started the night before, though I didn’t realise it at the time. It was only yesterday I realised that I had somehow forgotten to take my night time medication, which I might add is an extreme rarity. The odd time I’ll forget the morning lot but not so the night-time fistful.
I happily went to sleep at around one, which is perfectly normal for me. Then at around three I woke for a pee. Again, not a nightly thing but still nothing remarkable. But could I get back to seep again? No fucking chance. I tossed and turned and eventually got up around at nine. I felt fucking awful.
Naturally my infection thingy decided to have a field day. My nose ran like a tap, my eyes felt like they were about to explode and I had a constant headache so I had to feed myself with paracetamol all day. There was no chance of a doze in my chair, though I tried so hard. The more I tried to doze the worse I felt. I hadn’t felt that bad in years.
I went to bed early which is an extreme rarity for me. I fell asleep. Bliss.
This morning at around half five Herself woke me out of a very deep and much needed sleep. She wanted tea and toast. She thought it was half eleven, not half five though the fact that it was pitch dark should have been a clue.
Okay I’m sorry for some of what I said. I didn’t really mean that bit about her ancestry.
I doubt it would have been physically possible anyway.