Thursday

Another night of coughing and discomfort. It feels like I've only had around 6 hours sleep in the last two nights combined, even though that's probably untrue. At lunch I venture into Wood Green to visit Boots and buy some Night Nurse capsules. The woman behind the counter takes care to mention that I should only take them at bedtime - as though I was clearly tempted to pop a couple straightaway and snooze my way through the afternoon. Though the idea was not without its appeal, I manage to resist the temptation.

The news today is full of the story that a volcano which erupted in Iceland on Tuesday is now spreading ash across the entirety of the UK and large chunks of Northern Europe. As a result, UK airspace has been completely closed - no flights are taking off or landing on the whole island. It's a strange thing to imagine that there is not a single plane in the sky today, nor, by the sounds of things, will there be any until the weekend. What is infuriating, however, is the parade of idiots on TV news moaning about their flights being cancelled like it's somebody's fault. Like they'd prefer it if their flights took off after all and the engines got jammed up with rock and glass and they plummeted back to the ground. These things, even unusual things like this, happen, people.

In the evening K, Alex and I enjoy fish fingers and potato wedges before Ant and Belinda come over to hang out for a while - and so K can sew up Ant's jeans pocket, naturally. We end up with a lot of wine on the table and a home-made rhubarb crumble courtesy of Belinda. We sit in the dining room drinking and sharing stories until gone-midnight, which is a lot of fun - and we all end up a little drunk. Before bed I bang a couple of Night Nurse capsules and hope for the best. This cough really is proving unshiftable, and I'm slightly concerned that K might murder me if I keep her up all night again.