Thursday

Wake up feeling less-than-peachy. There's a little bit of hangover in there, for sure, but there's also some genuine sickness, I think. I'm coughing up tons of mucus and sniffling and all sorts...and getting very little sympathy for all my moaning. This is the problem when you mix alcohol with slight illness - no one believes you when you say you're sick. K suggests that I can have 45% sympathy as I am at least 55% hangover. This seems fair, and I toughen up for the day ahead with a hot cross bun.

It's a beautiful day and seems to confirm that spring is definitely here. The office gets a little stuffy but then I wonder if I'm noticing the temperature change more, because later I feel decidedly colder while everyone else carries on regardless. I manage to get quite a lot of my to-do list done (not always the case) and end the day writing AIs for this month's sales kit.

At home I spend the evening alone as K is out at a music industry free-booze thing so I cook, watch the new South Park, wash up and potter around with little real purpose. A couple of Europa League matches are on TV so I watch the last 15 minutes of Wolfsburg v Fulham which, amazingly, Fulham win 1-0 and knock out the German champions. They play like a team possessed and in truth they could have had four or five in the short time I was watching.

After the football I start to feel a bit more shaky so decide that instead of sitting in the living room coughing and watching the news I should go to bed and carry on with my Dara O Briain book. K arrives home a little drunk shortly after so I chat (whinge) to her for a while then try to get some sleep.