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Saturday, 15 December 2012

Reasons why no one has seen Fran out of doors for days

I've had a bad cold now since Thursday.  It was my day off school on Thursday anyway, so at least I could stay at home and just sloth about being miserable and moaning and feeling sorry for myself.  It was lots of fun.

I didn't sleep Thursday night; I think I had a fever.  Put it this way, one minute the duvet felt as though it were as thin as tissue paper and I was shivering; the next it felt like a flock of sheep had herded into my room and lain on top of me, making me sweat shed loads.  I got aches and pains all over as though I'd been shovelling coal for a week, too, and couldn't get comfortable in bed.

So, yesterday morning, which was Friday, I rang in sick and left cover work for my classes.  I spent the day sneezing, which didn't help the aches and pains.  I don't know if you've ever spent a day sneezing.  It's not exactly major suffering, but I wouldn't compare it to a day wandering around an art gallery in Paris, if you know what I mean.  My foster parents were meant to be coming round for the evening, but we cancelled so that they didn't catch colds for Christmas.  We agreed that they would come to the door and my husband would swap presents with them so they didn't have to enter the House of Horror.  I texted them and said that when I heard the doorbell I would wave feebly from the upper window like an 18th century consumptive, but I forgot.  Hell.  Why, when I get a chance to shine at drama, do I always mess up?



Today, I didn't even get out of my pyjamas.  The aches and pains had gone, but the cold itself, which I thought I'd already had, arrived properly with a vengeance.  I had to cancel two private lessons I was meant to teach; one so hates to intersperse quality tutoring about metaphor in literature with coughing up one's guts over a paying customer.

That's twenty-five pounds for the lesson, please, and an extra  five pounds
for the virus 


What I have done today, though, is write another couple of thousand words of a new novel I'm working on.  That I could do in between episodes of blowing my nose so loud that next door probably think we're watching the beginning of Titanic, when the ship leaves port, over and over again.

Now, I'm really into the novel and I don't want to stop.  So, what's the betting that tomorrow I'll spring out of bed with not so much as a sniffle and will have to rejoin normal life and leave my characters sitting in the living room, eating a box of Milk Tray, drinking too much red wine, and wondering whether to go to the police about what they've discovered?






25 comments:

  1. Hope you're better soon - and you have made progress with your novel, which is a little bit of compensation :-) Jo

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    1. It's a lot of compensation. I was wondering about abandoning it, but that time I had being ill made me think more carefully. Thanks for your comment, Jo.

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  2. Glad to see that you haven't suffered sense of humour failure. These wretched viruses certainly do have teeth, don't they? Hope you're feeling much better, soon.

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    1. The day my sense of humour deserts me will be a bad day. How will I teach paragraphing without being able to crack silly jokes to liven it up? Thanks, Martin.

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  3. Bless your cotton socks !! I hope the sneezing is subsiding and you'll be fit enough by Christmas to top and tail the hundredweight of sprouts the celebration seems to call for .

    Someone in town the other day said "I've had that Thing Everyone's Got " ... so you're not alone .

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    1. I was hoping that the cold would persist so that I could get out of the sprouts thing. Bah. And if I've Got the Thing Everyone's Got, at least it's good to know I'm in fashion.

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  4. I would award yourself at least one day for recuperation... and write your way to total health.

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    1. Thanks, Steve. My plan entirely.

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  5. I really hate going to the doctor -- just for a check-up, not because I'm sick -- and the doctor is sick. Then I know I'm going to catch something nasty. I hope you feel all lovely and spring-like very soon.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. That is actually the worst case scenario! There's a comedy sketch in there somewhere ..... it could end with the patient in the operating room only to find the surgeon has just had both arms cut off at the elbows. Only, maybe that's just sick!

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    2. It is kind of sick, but it's still funny.

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  6. If you've been writing in the feverish grip of delirium you could have come up with a masterpiece - like Kubla Can't - so just watch out for that pupil from Porlock.

    (*Clare has to go and sit down, having over-exerted her English Literature O'Level muscles*)

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    1. Is that Kubla Can't by Samuel Taylor Colerigid?

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  7. Come on, Fran fans, let's try to guess what they've discovered. I guess... sooty hoofprints in the middle of the rug by the fireplace and a big bite taken out of the Christmas cake that was left on the coffee table ready to cut when Mrs Blenkinsop arrived to have morning coffee with Aunty Pam.

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    1. Oh, shucks. Rumbled to the letter! Now I'll have to start aNOTHER book.

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  8. Strange how the creative juices flowed along with the catarrh and nasal drip. Now you know how to stimulate it next time words fail you - as if! Must be a better way. The wine and chocs at home with your characters sounds inviting. Hope you recover soon. :)

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    1. What a lovely image you portray! Yes, my characters enjoyed the wine and chocs very much, except that it was all spoiled by a revelation. What a pity. It was all going so well.

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  9. Good humour, a positive attitude, and a chance to indulge in some serious writing - it almost makes being ill a positive experience! I shall try to remember and follow your example next time I come down with something.

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    1. Yes, try it! It cost me a lot in Kleenex, but I'm sure I'll make this up easily when the novel sells its first million ..........

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  10. It is truly awful sneezing all day ! I have sat near three friends over the last few weeks with stinking colds... I'm now going from hot to cold all the time - not sure if it's a cold brewing or my soon-to-be-fifty inner thermostat !

    Get well for Christmas ( I fear I will be streaming by then )

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    1. I stayed away from everyone except the characters in my novel. I think that was wise. Hope your cold doesn't develop properly - drinks lots of orange juice!

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    1. Thank you! I certainly do now.

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  12. Did the Butler do it? ... feel better.

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    1. Flip! ANOTHer person determined to give the ending away!

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