Why flu is the worst thing ever, like ever.

Prepare yourselves for a post moaning about the illness that took me down like a bullet at the weekend.

That said illness? Flu. Or a really bad cold that came with a headache, a sore throat, a cough and tiredness.

So there I was, last week, in the middle of writing a cracking post about the Heather Wells series by Meg Cabot (to come soon) and it was Monday night so I thought, y’know I might leave this until the weekend to finish I’ll have time then.

Ha, I was so wrong

I believe it started that Monday afternoon, when I placed myself next to a girl who was coughing every 30 seconds. It then turned out she had pneumonia. Oh. Apparently, according to Google, there are forms of bacteria that are contagious – not sure how far I’ll trust this information but within 3 days I had a sniffle and I knew something bad was coming.

I think it was going to sixth form on Friday that did it. I pretty much spent that day feeling like death and begging for the day to end when I could go home and curl up in bed. Of course that was the day I was a given an essay and two lessons worth of biology notes as homework. Oh and I had given myself personal homework to finish my blog post over the weekend. If gods and such are real, one of them definitely had it in for me.

So there I am, Friday evening wrapped in my quilt watching Miranda, pretty sure that with a good nights sleep I will be feeling 100% (Maybe 95%) for Saturday. I didn’t take into account the fact I had a blocked nose, this meant I spent half the night figuring out how to breathe. I do not take illness well.

I actually don’t remember Saturday that much. I think I attempted to do my biology homework and I watched the Speak Now World Tour – according to my tweets anyway. But one thing I do remember from Saturday – getting angry at being ill, getting dressed in proper clothes at 5pm and stating that I would not let this illness take me down. The Sunday came and I felt 100x worse. My plan had failed. Until I had drunk about 5 hot lemons and then Sunday evening I felt as good as new, as if I hadn’t felt like death in the hours previous. I ate some toast and I enjoyed it – it tasted like toast not some sort of bland crunchy food I’m being forced to eat. But by then it was about 8pm, and then I remembered the biology notes in for Monday.

So I did them, I rushed them, because I actually like biology and I don’t want to ruin my track record of handing every notes in on time. But the stupid thing is? My teacher never asked for them Monday. I could have spent Sunday evening contemplating how the flu left as quick as it arrived. Or watched Doctor Who I mean my options were limitless.

Not really sure that there is a point to this post. Only that I’m still alive and I haven’t abandoned this blog.


Talk to me here and here

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