Tethered To The Bed.
Hey, Hey, another day!
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And this one promises to be a carbon copy of yesterday….apart from reading the Sunday papers.
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Big h has been very kind and has brought me food, along with half of The Times.
As I am not much of a Florence Nightingale myself, I can guess what a pain in the the but I am, so I consider myself very lucky to be regularly fed and watered.
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I did manage to drink a tinnie of beer last night, but I was not really in a receptive frame of mind, so I refused a second one on the grounds that everything tastes like rubbish anyway when you have flu.
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Looking out of the window is quite pleasant though.
It is a dove grey day with a heavy dark sky and persistent rainfall.
The roof opposite is a shining sheet and the big crows are hunched up amongst the chimney stacks….obviously swearing fiercely amongst themselves.
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The news is dire as usual, with all the people worldwide seeming to be unable to be at peace with each other and threats of worse to come soon.
It is depressing really, so I think I shall read the Style supplement next.
Perhaps I will get to play my favourite game, where there is a page or so of watches, rings, shoes or handbags and I pick out the one I like best and then look at the prices.
I have to say that I always seem to pick out the most expensive items….which goes to show that I either have inherent good taste…. or that nature created me to be a ‘gold-digger par excellence’.
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I was obviously made to ..’sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, and feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream’.
That is an old rhyme to describe a life of total indolence and luxury, but it is probably a recipe for being fat and bored, with sore fingers.
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There is a good side effect of all this forced inaction though, because I have been working on some poetry, which I shall no doubt torture you sadistically with, in the near future.
Ah, power!!!!!!!!!!
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So, have a good flu-free one yourself.
J,x.
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Hmmm, I am not well, so perhaps I should demand some chocolates!
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