the saga of sick

 I've been sick for the past few days, just a cold, which is a bland name for the kind of sneezing, dripping, aching mess one becomes.  I counted back and I was on a train just long enough ago for that to have been the infection point.  While I've been on holiday I've caught far fewer trains and socialised less generally, so on the one train that week I cop it.  How is that fair?  On my holiday!  Ah well, it's traditional, for me anyway.

But that leads to the point of my disturbance.  I've been quite sleep deprived, particularly as I started to get better.  Less exercise, had been sleeping during the day until the congestion started, and then at the worst of it, having to blow one's nose on average every 10 seconds kind of disrupts any attempt to settle.  So I was *really* tired when I finally got to sleep at some hell o'clock hour not long before sunrise.  I eventually woke up again feeling some better and set out to go shopping because I'd pretty well eaten everything available except the rats.  I got Rocket the e-bike ready and headed out thinking vaguely that it's mow day, wonder when the guy will be here . . . and then I noticed something.  The feral front lawn was now tidy.  Mowed.

I haven't left the place since Friday.  So that means I slept through a lawnmower only a few metres from my ears.  I still haven't quite come to terms with how I managed that one.

I'm still a bit wobbly, but am sure I'll be fine for work next week.  I have that kind of luck.