Well, by Tuesday morning the nagging sore throat and headache of the previous day had developed into a full blown headcold - we're talking cloth ears, running nose, chesty wheeze, rampant sinusitis, smarting eyes, no sense of smell or taste, snot, mucus, bloody slime, the lot.
Did I take sick leave? Unfortunately not. Both Tuesday and Wednesday I was scheduled to give classes that I could not duck so I did the noble thing and staggered into work. Mind you, Thursday and Friday, I was officially sick. Actually, I'm feeling somewhat better but I have a nose that Rudolf the reindeer would be proud of and one that is further graced by layers of peeling, dead, white flesh. However, though I should be going to Covent Garden tonight to see L'elisire d'amore, I really don't feel up to venturing out quite yet.
Now, last week, when I was in Oxford with James, he made some sort of comment, apropos of what I can't remember, about me having a fabby boyfriend. Well, I knew that but, as you can remember from previous outbursts, I still occasionally have deep worries about the age difference, me not being good enough, etc, etc, yakkata, yakkata. Ross's Web pages tell a little of what he thinks about me.
Frankly, I read this stuff at work when I was feeling low in spirits.
I had to go off to the toilet to have a quiet weep by myself. Half
an hour later, I got an extremely erotic e-mail message from him
which put the crotch seams of my trousers under an immense amount of
pressure. All I can say is that when we both get back to rude health,
we'll be as rude as he suggested in the message.
Meanwhile, outside of the window, it's been a couple of days of solid showers. It's played havoc with getting the washing dried but the garden is continuing to do well. Looks like we're having April showers in May.
Still, apart from a little pottering in the garden, the rain has kept me inside
and warm. That's given me the opportunity to tuck myself up with a racy little
Trollope. That's not a reference to Ross, of course.
I've been listening to recordings of the Radio 4 productions of some of
Trollope's Barchester Towers. Bliss, bliss!
I've also spent quite a bit of time tinkering with the other parts of the Weblife project, notably the Cats, Operas, Places, People and the Love and Stuff Sections. As with all publications, it's amazing how rapidly information goes out of date.
We have the computer in the spare bedroom, which has really become more of a workroom or study now. Cyril has decided that this is now his favourite resting place so I've had pussy company while I've been typing away. And with our cable connection, I've been making use of the link to keep abreast of my work e-mail. Oh, the miracles of modern technology.