The last few days had been really good ones: Transfiguration, and Rick Stein - and now for the ridiculous. On the way home from Rick Stein last night, on the long way around that we had to go because SH2 out to the Hutt Valley was closed by a slip, I started to feel a bit grotty - incipient sore throat and all that. And by about 9pm last night I realised that I was in for it and emailed my boss to let her know that I might not make it in today, and when I woke up before 6 this morning I knew that the idea of trying to go to work was completely futile.
So here I am, bundled up in a rug on the couch, aching all over with a throat that feels as though it was specially imported from the depths of Arabia, sand included, and muscles that appear to have been transmuted into something resembling gelatine but with a special bonus of soreness just to make sure I stay awake, and a head that is doing its level best to drift away. Fortunately hubby and small daughter were at Playcentre this morning so I could go back to sleep, and the cat, bless his little furriness, came and snuggled up with me.
The interesting thing is that I've been thinking of that lovely Psalm on and off most of the day, the one where the Psalmist talks about "all my bones being out of joint" and fully understanding what the Psalmist meant. Maybe he wrote this when he had a cold, or had been hurt in some way - but out of that pain came praise. Hopefully I can manage the same!
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