In which I sulk a little bit

So, let me tell you how this weekend should have gone. On Friday, three of us were heading for dinner at one of my favourite restaurants. Then, on Saturday, I was going for a much needed hair cut followed by a barbecue at my parent's house. Sunday would have seen a leisurely drive home via our local
farm shop to pick up a chicken for roasting, and then an afternoon drinking tea and getting up to date with the newspapers.

In fact what actually happened was that I spent most of the three days in bed, occasionally surfacing to drink more fluids and communicate my displeasure in an interesting series of croaks.

Yep, I have the lurgy. Actually, I've had it for a week now and it's just. Getting. Boring. I have no appetite to speak of and the only things that I can get vaguely enthusiastic about eating are Starbucks' Frappucinos and ice cream because they numb my throat on the way down.

It is not a diet I would recommend.

Anyway, despite the fact that I can't speak, and may well have to deliver sessions through the medium of modern dance, I am now back down to Lincoln for two weeks. It will be the last time I'll ever be a trainer on this course which is a little bit sad, but I am definitely starting to become more excited for the new job that I'll be starting in a few weeks. Or as excited as I am capable of being about anything at the moment (I am a terrible, terrible invalid. A really miserable piece of work).

Anyway. If I eat anything worth blogging about in the next fortnight, or, indeed, stumble upon some sort of universal truth of dieting, you'll be the first to know.



And here is a cute cat picture to cheer us all (well, me) up.

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