That's right, England, the place where around 3/4 of my childhood took place. I can't wait to see family and friends that I have not seen for eons.
Wahey!
However, my mother has disseminated an awful flu to the entire family.
I plan to get rid of it before I venture out into the cold. Really bad to change climates from tropical to icy. There's a risk of pneumonia, you know.
After being subjected to many weird teas and a cocktail of cough medicines, I do feel a little better; however I'm still wearing a fleece blanket as a toga in 30ºC heat. Not really a sign of optimum health, I assure you.
On the first night of the flu, I was cold and hot at the same time, shivering and too dizzy to get out of bed. I had hallucinations of Paul McCartney making a song with Kanye West. Wait... that actually happened.
I imagined that my dog turned into a centaur.
I further had weird cough syrup-induced dreams of me marrying someone who might be reading this. With that in mind, I'd rather not say for fear of professional status slipping and mental wellbeing being compromised.
Let's just say it was a corporate wedding.
However some good things have happened over the past week. I sat for six hours and got my hair braided, and I'm sure I've lost round about half a stone through being so sick I can only eat cucumber sandwiches and ginger ale.
I did, however, manage to make and ingest some baked rosemary potatoes for supper.
Every cloud...
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