This blog post ought to have included all sorts of fun and exciting
pieces of news and information for you. There’s
been a whole weekend of run and excitement that I ought to be able to share
with you.
If the weekend had gone
to plan I would have been out on a sunny Saturday morning brunch with Kate
while Nick had a post-Friday night lie in. Sita is leaving Singapore next week
to return home to India for a year while she works out her next move, and to
bid farewell to this glorious city she had a night of drinking and dancing
planned for all her Singaporean nearest and dearest on Saturday evening. Sunday was to be a day of recovery and flat
cleaning, with a great big massive Southern American brunch thrown in for good
measure so that we got to see Tommy one more time before he heads back to
Phuket (and to try out the new brunch menu at The Beast), and then I was going
to join my Uni girls on a Skype date whilst they all gathered and ate brunch
together in the countryside. But instead I’ve been asleep for about 80% of the
weekend.
I woke up on Saturday
morning feeling a little bit groggy, which I predictably put down to the wine
from the night before, so I powered on through, had a shower and started making
vague moves in the direction of leaving the house to meet Kate for breakfast as
planned. However, I somehow sat on the sofa and found myself unable to get back
up. From nowhere I had developed a cough that sounded as though I’d been caught
in a serious house fire, my head was exploding, my eyes were incredibly
sensitive to light and my joints hurt. All of them.
Whilst I would never
normally cancel plans due to a few too many glasses of wine the night before, I
really didn’t think that I could stand up, let alone leave the house, and so I
lay on the sofa to regroup and see if the world would look any better from
there.
It didn’t. Over the
next hour I simply got a lot worse. I developed a fever, which was fun, leaving
me boiling in the face and shivering everywhere else, no matter how many layers
or blankets I went for. There was only one thing for it, I made a sofa duvet
nest, and I slept.
Nick came and went
during the day but mostly he spent his day looking after me – he had plans to
see Flash during the day, so he popped out for a few hours and returned to find
me exactly where he had left me. Normally I am quite alert when I’m asleep, and
would wake up if there was movement in the room, but in this case woke up at
one point and Nick had clearly come back into the flat, dug the spare chair out
of the cupboard (I was dominating the sofa), made a drink and put the TV back
on without me noticing. I was awake for about three minutes and then fast
asleep for another three hours.
Dinner was marmite on
toast and then I was back asleep again. At 10pm Nick had to go out for Sita’s
leaving do and I just kept on sleeping. I slept all night, and then was up at
7am – not to do anything, just to relocate to the sofa in an attempt not to
wake Nick up (I had no idea what time he got in the night before, but it was
definitely going to have been a late one).
Sunday was more of the
same sadly. In an attempt to power on through I stuck with the lunch plan at
The Beast, and we made our very slow and delicate way there for the 2pm reservation
with 8 others. Sadly, it was a bad decision and I failed to eat or drink
anything other than water and diet coke. Two hours later the taxi took us home
and I again slept through until 8pm, by which point I had completely missed my
Skype date with the girls and they were all on their respective ways home, so
Marmite on toast happened again before relocating to bed and more sleep.
I think its fair to say
that I failed this weekend. Miserably!
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