A Right Royal Snotfest

This past week I've been generating a decent amount more of phlegm and snot than usual. Ok that sounds gross so I'll use the euphemism- head cold. I have one and it sucks. What sucks more however is the fact that as a twenty something woman I actually don't have time to be sick.

I'm sure this is even more the case with working mums who don't want to infect wee kiddies, but in my case it's mainly due to FOMO ('fear of missing out' for those not up with the acronyms).

This weekend should have seen me glued to the bed drinking only Lemsip and smothering myself in Vicks but it didn't quite go down that way....

To be fair I had planned this weekend a long time ago for a couple of reasons. The first being that I had bought tickets to Mr BOB DYLAN on Saturday night! There was no way I was giving that up. Sure I could have refrained from drinking but after the opening song (which I'm still unsure as to what it was) I needed a drink.

I'm not denying that he still is and always will be a legend but after years of a two-pack-a-day habit, ole Bob's voice bears a strong resemblance to the Cookie Monster. Add to that the fact that the arrangements of classics like All Along the Watchtower and Like a Rolling Stone were even more estranged from the originals than an Americal Idol special and you get an idea of why we were a bit disappointed.

Still, I don't regret going, I would have kicked myself if I'd chosen the couch and Lemsip over Batman...oh I mean Bob.

Now for the reason why I didn't have a quiet Friday (oops). Blame the Royals and the fairytale story that is Wills and Kate. Sigh. How could any girl not want to watch the Royal Wedding on Friday?! Of course it seemed rude not to gorge on bubbly and scones with cream and jam in the process. I may have also brewed the first batch of mulled wine for the season...hey come on, it had oranges in it. Vitamin C intake- tick!

To be fair I haven't really helped my body heal all week. I'm going to sound like such a matyr but I have to admit that I didn't take a sick day for fear of getting behind on work. I feel a bit jipped because I was soldiering on so well (thanks to various pharmaceutical products) that I couldn't really milk any pity out of coworkers. I did however manage to spread it to a couple of the other girls in the office and it seems to have hit them much harder.

Note to self- isolate one's phlegm.

At home the story isn't any different. Despite the coughing, sneezing and general moping about the house, Tom hasn't so much as offered to make me a cup of herbal tea. He reckons he's just 'treating me how he thought he'd want to be treated'. I kindly reminded him of the fuss I make when he's suffering a bout of the man flu. After jogging his memory it turns out that he actually isn't averse to being waited on.

After chatting to another of the sickies from work, it turns out that she's in the same boat. Is it a twenty something male school of thought that if you don't indulge the sick girlfriend they'll make a miraculous recovery? Sadly I'm thinking it may just be a male thought, regardless of age.

Note number two to self- tell girlfriends or Mum about illness if wanting sympathy.

Enough of the cold talk. I don't want you to think I'm going on about it- it's not the Man Flu after all. In other news, I'm hitting the milestone that is my 25^th birthday in a week's time. I'll be sure to update you if I experience any sudden urges to take up life insurance or start saving for a house.