I don’t actually mind being ill and catching the odd bug. It means I have the perfect excuse to cuddle under my patchwork quilt and knit into the wee hours. The problem comes when I’m not quite ill enough to have the day off work, but am not quite well enough to function as a human being. It’s in this guilty no-man’s-land I find myself today. Should I call work and tell them I’m not coming in, making myself feel bad all day about leaving them short-staffed, or should I go in regardless, and feel bad all day about not taking better care of myself instead?*

In other news, I couldn’t actually wait to start my big knitting project and got stuck in yesterday. I am nearly half way to shaping the arm holes on the back of the sweater, which is somewhat pre-emptive because I don’t actually understand how to shape the neck. I suppose it’s one of those ‘cross that bridge when you come to it’ sort of things. In any case, Project: Don’t Get Caught Out at Birthdays and Christmas seems to be going well and it’s only February. My next big challenge is to figure out what to make for S- which he will actually wear…

But enough. I am now feverish enough that I’m enjoying a 3 Doors Down album and that isn’t a good sign. I’m going to find my hot water-bottle from where she’s no doubt ingesting a small rodent and return to my sofa nest.

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*As it turned out, I fell asleep on the sofa shortly after typing this paragraph and woke up feeling like death. After tossing a coin to determine whether I should drive in to Cambridge or not, I phoned work to let them know I was sick, returned to the sofa and spent the next eight hours snuggling the cat and catching up on Top Gear and various other things on iPlayer. This little session included a short piece on Radio 4 about an author friend of mine, Mary Holmes. For anyone who likes real-life stories, I would definitely recommend her book about being separated at birth from her twin sister….  The interview is worth a listen too if you’re that way inclined.

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