Man Flu

Yesterday I had a rather nasty little pain in my throat, not exactly going to make me break down and cry, after all I'm a man, but annoying, particularly around any time I had to swallow something, which being a greedy fat bloke, tends to happen quite a bit. 

Towards the end of yesterday the nose was getting clogged, the occasional sneeze was drifting into the equation. It was the kind of one nostril blockage (the left one if anyone's interested) and blowing it ended up hurting my throat all over again.

This morning I wake up, and bam (bam? Thta's the best word I could think of? Seriously??) it's here. The throat has teamed up with the head, who've run a triple play with the nose (still a solitary nostril though, the right one must be like a resistance cell against the virus. Vive la resistance!) and given me a cold. But as no doubt I'll be told within 67 seconds of sniffing once in the office today, it's not a cold, not even a heavy cold, it's...

Man Flu

Now, beyond being uncomfortable, the cold wont really bother me all that. Few lost seconds finding a tissue maybe, few extra puffs on my asthma inhaler certainly. But I can be certain, if I do show any sign of weakness every woman for 3 floors around will break into the traditional, "Oh look at him, he's got man flu, it's only a code big baby, men are rubbish when they're ill... blah blah friggin blah" lines! 'Cos of course a woman's never overreacted to an illness ever.

In fact I'm sure I remember reading that men actually can hold up a little better than women on times. But bring that up and then childbirth rears it's head. I'm sure childbirth is hell, but so is being hit in the nuts with a cricket ball. I'll never understand the pain of squeezing one out, women will never understand the pain of being bowled middle stump with a corgi ball. 

There are kidney stones, which by all accounts have comparable pain levels, but that can happen to either of us (and indeed it was suspected I had them til it turned out to be appendicitis) and I'm not fancying getting them just for a comparison. 

My plan for the morning is basically, get off train (I am on the train this time), go to boots, get tablets, go to work. No cold will stop me, slow me down yes but not stop me.

On a better note, the house is coming along better, we have a bed, a settee and having sky fitted today. The furniture is gradually being moved in and the kitchen may be done today! Woo-hoo! Well that's if I can manage to carry any of it, or I may be stricken down with my near fatal case of the sniffles. 

The wonders of being homeless

Ok, ok I'm not homeless in the have nowhere to live kind of vein, and using the term is probably as melodramatic as I could humanly be. But it's still a pain in the arse!

To clarify, I recently bought a new house (woohoo) which had somewhat been left go to crap by the previous owner (boooo). As a result significant work was required to bring it up to the 21st century, honestly I think some would have been needed to bring it up to the 20th!

In the meantime, as we epically failed to sell our old house, we decided to rent it to a lovely local couple with a sprog on the way, but they've moved in now, relegating me (+2) to my either the mrs' fathers back bedroom, or my old bedroom in my folks house. Now I'm eternally grateful for this on every level, but I'm used to my own place now, and this is somewhat of a culture shock!

Of these my parents is the most extreme! No Internet is something, and their taste in TV is a bit... yeah. To be fair my mother watched Castle last night which is superb, Captain Hamm... I mean Nathan Fillion, an absolute delight to watch as always (except for desperate housewives) and I quite liked Silent Witness but the One Show?? Has such an awful cheesy idea been used since the 70s? It's like a TV version of Butlins entertainment, only on occasion I like Butlins entertainment!

The place hasn't even got an alarm clock, I have to use my phone where the alarm tone is the Bad Horse Chorus from Dr Horribles Sing Along Blog. Which one day this week led me to not walking up, but starting a dream where I was standing at the top of the stairs and the BHC were serenading me, over and over again from the bottom. I then woke up feeling very freaked out... and humming the tune... Anyway I digress...

We're pushing towards the end of the second week of work in the new abode. We have a wall knocked down, we have plastering done, we have new central heating, we have a full rewiring, redesigned back and a fully tiled kitchen, so it's getting there, but it looks like another week of house hopping is on the cards. I know it'll all be worth it in the end and we'll rock Heolgerrig (a place in Merthyr) at the house warming party. Patience Andrew, have some patience.

Anyway that's enough of me feeling sorry for myself, even the freaky train guy sat next to me who keeps reading all this over my shoulder (obviously I don't think he's dangerous or I wouldn't refer to him as freaky train guy ready for him to glance over my shoulder and go all hulk on my ass, he's just old weird and smells slightly of urine, he's also wearing a hat that's as close to a deer stalker as I've ever seen in real life) is looking bored.

So I shall leave you now, I'll write something later, or at least post a rejected newsarse article, I submitted one yesterday evening on the very unfortunate Chris Moyles and his lack of overpayment for the last 2 months, no word if it'll be used yet, but if it isn't... it'll be here. If it is (unlikely) it'll be there so I wont bother beyond a link on my twitter (www.twitter.com/andrewdrisc)

So TTFN