I have a cold. I am miserable. The world shall know and look after me. I could have caught from one of two candidates. My house mate Cecil, or Tom's house mate Twinkle. No, neither of those are their real names. Yes , some people don't actually know their real names. Twinkle is coughing up blood every now and again. Tom is also sick, but not as bad as me. That means he made me peanut butter toast when he came to check on me even though he doesn't like peanut butter. That was lovely of him.
I have decided that having a cold is like living in clear sugar syrup. At first I thought it was like living in treacle, but then I thought treacle was all brown and hard to see through. You can still see everything when you have a cold, but it's a wee bit hazy and you move soooo slllloooowly. It is hard work to lift your limbs. Every word gets through to you a little while longer after everyone else. Time seems to pass less quickly. And so on . And so forth.
In other news. I had my haircut. In a real salon. Recommended by the Watson, Cream Hair Design at 70 Bedford Place, Southampton are wonderful. Definitely value for money, what with the massage chair you sit in while they wash your hair. I didn't want to leave. Dawn, the stylist, also created exactly what I asked for. No more than two inches cut off, feathers in the front, and layers through out. I feel like a new silky woman and can't stop playing with my hair.
That is all.