And then this stupid cough started.  It’s a very dry cough which means that whenever my head hits the pillow my body decides to cough and cough and cough me to sleep, until I wake up in the early hours of the morning coughing and listening to my stomach swirling like a mini-tsunami.  By the time it’s a decent hour to get out of bed I have not only a sore throat, but ear-ache aswell, and more often than not, a very sore tummy that is telling me to run, Forestt, run! just as I had earlier in the morning.

Yesterday was my court case.  I was so nervous the entire day that I fell asleep in front of Jeremy Kyle as he went around collecting those all important DNA tests.  The only thing that that man and I have in common is that were I to support an English football team, it would be … West Ham United.  Kyle’s own favourite team.  That is a scary thought.

I’ll find out what the judge rules re: my court case next month, but my lawyers will be de-briefing me between now and then.

The Twat came home from work saying that he thinks that he’s coming down with something and has had to try to avoid his colleagues all day due to constant farting.  I would have thought that they would be used to it by now, but apparently it is farting of a different kind.  More along butt ‘flu farts.

Oh dear.

I meant to apply for a job today but I was so dozy that putting together a cover letter and taking chunks out of my CV to set it to one page, as requested deemed un-doable, unless I changed the font to 8, or something.  Hopefully, I shall be feeling better tomorrow and will send my application off and get an interview unless I die before now and then.

So February, could you be a wee bit nicer than January?

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