So begins my third day in bed with flu.
My major experience with the freak snowfall on sunday was to be assaulted by ruffians on the streets of Dalston, so perhaps my weak constitution combined with a snowball to the head was the cause of my affliction, or possibly it was some very ridiculous work and contracts faff that I have since been trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore from my sickbed.
But somebody lovely brought me acres of food and painkillers (well, just the one pack of painkillers) and I hope to be recovered upon the morrow. Goodness, but I really am quite bad at stopping work, even though I spend a lot of a working day thinking I should be doing more...
Oh, I'm already there.