Thursday, 12 April 2012

Too sick to live.

Whenever you are sick, you are more sick than anyone else have ever been in the history of life itself. My head is spinning, it weighs a tonne. My vision is blurred from my constantly watery eyes. I can taste the infection in my throat. Death is breathing down my clammy exposed neck. Oh and I look fabulous, of course. So I'll wrap up in my pyjamas and blanket, heat up my plush sheep 'Warmies' in the microwave and hope for the best. I've been guzzling orange juice which is satisfying as it tingles my throat and feels better afterwards. I've pleaded via text to Boyfriend to bring home lemons and squeezy honey. I have soluble Lemsip sachets, but I can't believe nobody told me how revolting they are. I've watched countless people swig mugs of the nasty concoction with sighs of relief. Maybe they are spies planted to convince me to buy it. Well it worked. Now the box of medicine sits on the kitchen counter mocking me every time I walk past. It might be time for another nap. xoxo

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