Try not to contract influensa this winter.
If you see it coming at you, shoo it away or stone it dead with vitamins and omega 3 capsules.
Should you be unlucky as I have been; if you have been felled by small children sneezing on you, rubbing their snot all over your face and wrapping their feverish limbs around you, my advice would be to retire gracefully.
As gracefully as the flu permits.
At some point during this wondrous journey into chills and semi-delirium, you will drag yourself out of bed and crawl over to the couch, duvet in tow, in an attempt to connect to the world of the living, also known as the Oprah Winfrey Show.
Aah, you will think, here’s someone I know. Someone whose company I am cruelly deprived of since a life in employment has robbed me off the joys of daytime TV.
Her guest is a lanky, flaxen-haired goddess, with perfect skin and (I’m guessing) no chipped nails. It would appear that this has been achieved by inhaling blueberries and muesli. She has written a book about “wellness” (really, how inappropriate is this show for me right now?), which apparently comes from meditating, sleeping 8 hours, going vegan and CLEARLY – inhaling food instead of consuming it chompchomp.
All this as I am busy stuffing my face with toast, marmalade and oversweetened Indian tea.
Whats a girl got to do to cop a break over here?
The TV off, I indulge in satisfying, bitter fantasies about smearing marmalade on the blonde goddess’s face. That and Daniel Craig. Or maybe smearing marmalade on Daniel Craig? Yum.
Feeling better now.