Generally I'm not very good at being sick, all grumpy at being confined, so it's a measure of exactly how sick I've been that I hardly noticed not leaving the house for most of a week. I hate the flu, and how weak and pathetic it's left me, in this sad lump on my couch, living on tea and Dayquil. This morning the walk up to brunch was much more walk than I can handle yet, and I sadly took the bus home.
On top of the end of the flu, it has left behind a nice round of bronchitis. All the coughing and hacking a girl could want.
But it's on its way out, so I guess I've won this round, but I foresee a lot more napping and scowling in the week or so of recovery to come.
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