An Ill weak

It is a rainy end start to the weekend, with the most positive thing to say  about it, is the fact that, it gives an excuse not, to creosle the fence -although one day soon, then the deed must be done. Monday sees the day of England Patron Saint (George). - though what he would feel at the lack of celebration? Disappointing is, most probably the word
Tuesday sees the stirrings of physical unrest and the symptoms of a slight illness, and though I like to think it is just tiredness, it is the sign of things to come.
Though Wednesday begins quite productively; with my input at the unit meeting being significant and productive in attaining a positive outcome for those whom I represent. Though by the ending on the day, I am beginning to feel the onset of migraine and upon arrival at home, make the the short trip up the wooden stairs, where blanket fair is going to be a play where I rest my head in darkness and silence - well I can but try.
Thursday see a further two Union meetings. With my early night alleviating most of my head pains, it is the sore throat, dodgy cough and general lethargy that I endure. Later in the evening I am joined by the younger of my two girls, who stops over,  and even makes me a cup of tea - Gee, I must be looking bad!
Annual leave is suitably appropriate; and indeed welcome, as I take Lennon's and Ono's advice in giving 'Peace a chance' and stayed in bed for the duration. Despite the best of efforts in self-medicating, the ailments of illness win the day and another uncomfortable day - I don't like being ill; the buzzing in the head, the pressure laying on the eyes, a nose both blocked and streaming, the cough and soreness of throat - gosh it's not a feeling good. With sleep periods measured more in minutes rather than hours, its proving hard to shake off and; more to the point, so darn inconvenient. All being "well", next week will see brighter days and happier times = Forever the faith