I had plans for the weekend.
I had to cancel them.
After work next week, I was supposed to be driving to Cornwall for my mum’s birthday.
I’ve had to tell her that I’ve postponed.
By Sunday evening, I have even had to acknowledge that I am not going to manage to get up at crack of dawn and do the 45 minute rush hour drive tomorrow morning. I have rung in sick.
I have a cold.
I haven’t had a bad cold for ages.
I had begun to think I was invulnerable. Working in a school of over 1,000 boys, I believed I had developed a cast iron immune system.
I was wrong.
And now I am achey and shivery and sniffly.