Dear diary, I’m tired. So, so, so… tired. Last weekend I was struck down by an interesting malady. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t your standard flu or whatever where your nose is blocked. It felt like my trachea was shrunk down to the size of a straw. There were a few moments where I was wheezing so bad I thought I was going to die. On top of that I had a fever and everything that comes with it – shakes and sweats and other lovely stuff.
After I nearly passed out at work on Saturday, I decided I would be of no use to anyone on Sunday, so I took the day to recover. I felt much better on Monday morning so decided I was ready to get back to work.
I should’ve listened to my head which was telling me to stay home another day to make sure I’m actually well. But my guilt over abandoning my duties when I was ‘clearly feeling so much better!’ won over common sense.
Anyway, now I’ve been on the slow road to recovery all week with absolutely no energy. In fact, I’m struggling to physically keep my eyes open whilst writing this. I want to sleep.
But instead I’ve got to go make my Yule cake. And pack. And go to the shop. And then go to work. And a hundred other things.
Could I just sleep instead maybe? Please?