The thing is, I must be feeling a little bit better or I wouldn't be able to think about writing the Daily Blog...
On the other hand, putting words together will stop
me feeling sorry for myself and I have found, from long experience, that Self Pity is not a Good Look.
A little bit of background: I have been struggling with a bad cold for most of the past week. I have,
however, managed to get to today, Friday, before actually pulling out of anything. On Monday, we welcomed our Nomination Whist crowd for an afternoon of cards and I actually played pretty well. Maybe it was my reckless "What the hell?" attitude. I should adopt
it more often.
Tuesday, regular readers will remember, I chaired the quarterly Voluntary Sector Forum. My behaviour all morning could best be described as manic, this being my default position in situations
where I am trying to be determinedly upbeat, despite feeling the opposite. There is probably a name for it but I don't currently have the inclination to pay a visit to my BFF Google to check it out.
I summoned up every last ounce of energy to make sure the Youngest of the Darling Daughters enjoyed her Birthday Plus One. It was the least I could do given that on our last Lunch and Theatre Trip to see Dream Girls she was feeling every bit as horrid as I
was on Wednesday but still made it through the day with her smile intact.
Come today and even Mr B realised something was up when I reported that I wouldn't be going to Choir this morning. If not completely
unprecedented, this is still highly unusual. After all, if my spirits needed lifting - which they did - a hearty rendition of the Mermaid at the Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea, complete with Rule Britannia choruses, would be the very best medicine. You don't
know that song? I can thoroughly recommend it.
I telephoned Myra, convenor of the choir, to tell her I wouldn't be in my usual place in the second row of the Alto Section. Could she pass on a message to Avril,
who had asked me to order her a bacon bap (with two slices of bacon) and a mug of coffee from the community centre Café, ready for when she finished her short mat bowls. Myra said, doubtfully, that she would if she happened to see Avril but couldn't
promise. This wasn't ideal but I decided I couldn't worry about it any more. Although, of course, I did. Until Avril phoned to tell me she was staying home today so not to worry about her bacon bap and mug of coffee. She had a bad cold, she said...
It would be good, in theory, to be able to take to my bed and sleep all day - but Mr B needs looking after, shopping needs doing, meals need cooking. The kitchen looks a right mess because my new resolution to Be Like
Kay and put everything away as soon as I have finished with it has, like Liz Taylor, Gone For A Burton. But, hey, as wilful Scarlett of Gone With The Wind fame once remarked, tomorrow is another day.
sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun." Please sing with an American drawl if you can manage it.
There's nothing like a bit of good old Annie to cheer a person up.