Oh no, I got a cold...

 

 This is so not what having a cold is like. STOP! Don't come too close! I'm infected.... Yes, that's right: it's half-term, time for a deserved rest and, naturally, my body has decided to attack itself and ruin my week of fun.   Despite obsessive hand-washing and avoiding contact with sticky children wherever possible (quite a challenge in my job) one of the little monsters has managed to infect me (and by monsters, I mean germs, rather than children. Or maybe not...)     Can I add OFSTED to this list?                           I made it all the way through the most miserable of terms, past the post-Christmas lull and Blue Monday; I dodged the winter virus that always rears its projectile-vomiting head around this time of year; I even survived not only OFSTED, but the post-OFSTED slump, unscathed. Shattered, but still functioning.   By golly, was I looking forward to my holiday! So many fun things to do! Out on Friday night, a planned lazy day Saturday, then a week of sightseeing, visiting friends, geocaching, writing, reading and afternoons in the pub. This was the week I'd been looking forward to since December. This was the week where I could treat myself and have some fun after all my hard work. My chance to enjoy the last days of winter, knowing they were the last and that spring is finally on its way.   The week started well and Friday night was awesome. Saturday, in a less spectacular fashion, was pretty cool too. I recharged my batteries and slept off a mild hangover while I finalised my plans for the rest of the week. And then I woke up on Sunday morning feeling decidedly iffy. This rapidly progressed to proper poorly, which escalated to a cold so epic that I can only compare the pain in my sinuses to being punched in the face.   My life since then has been a miserable haze of taking tablets, blowing my nose and shuffling restlessly around the house. The days and nights have merged, and I realise with shock that it is Thursday today, and I won't be going to York, or the seaside, or writing a new novel, or drinking five pints on a weekday. The only time I've ventured outside has been to go to Tesco (ibuprofen, tissues, Lemsip, honey) or Boots (decongestant tablets, decongestant spray, unspeakable sinus rinse torture device). It's just not fair.   The only person who understands my pain is the wonderful Pam Ayres, whose famous ode to the common cold has been swimming round my head all miserable week. If you don't know it, you should, so here it is:  OH NO, I GOT A COLD by Pam Ayres I am sitting on the sofa. By the fire and staying in. Me head is free of comfort And me nose is free of skin Me friends have run for cover, They have left me pale and sick With me pockets full of tissues And me nostrils full of Vick That bloke in the telly adverts, He's supposed to have a cold. He has a swig of whatnot And he drops off, good as gold, His face like snowing harvest Slips into sweet repose. Well I bet this tortured breathing Never whistled down his nose. I burnt me bit of dinner Cause I've lost me sense of smell, But then, I couldn't taste it, So that worked out very well, I'd buy some, down the cafe, But I know that at the till, A voice from work will softly say "I thought that you were ill". So I'm wrapped up in a blanket With me feet up on a stool, I've watched the telly programmes And the kids come home from school, But what I haven't watched for Is any sympathy, Cause all you ever get is: "Oh no, keep away from me!" Medicinal discovery, It moves in mighty leaps, It leapt straight past the common cold And gave it us for keeps. Now I'm not a fussy woman, There's no malice in me eye But I wish that they could cure the common cold. That's all. Goodbye.   But, until they do, we just have to get on with it and you know me- I always look for the silver lining! And I had to look really hard this time, but eventually I found it. It looks like this:   

Well, I am poorly, y'know...