I've got a touch of 'flu. I know this because I have the achin' bones, the stab of pain every time I cough and I generally feel like a bucket 'o shit without the bucket.
I also figured I'd sweat the bug out - we are at the beginning of a four day heatwave - and decided to work in the garden before the temperature rose too high. First up, a bit of trimming off some... plant or other. (I'm botanically challenged so I've no idea what it was.) Somehow, I managed to break the long bladed snipper things. It wasn't as if the dead sticky-things were that thick! Right. Okay. I'll mow instead.
I worked up a nice sweat as I did row after row until... zzzt, pop, flash and a gout of blue smoke rose from the mower. Of course, it wouldn't start again and the lawn now looks like a failed attempt at writing something rude for the satellites.
Obviously, I wasn't meant to work in the garden today, but there's no way I'm taking to my bed and mope; I just can't do it. I do feel better for the effort in the garden though, not so... achy. Maybe there's something to this sweat cure.
So I sat in front of the computer and edited the Nano book - for which I still don't have a title! I discovered it's not a good idea when you're feeling under the weather. I suck at first pages.
I thought it was a good idea at the time, but nope. Sucks. Alot. Even the new pages I wrote aren't going to reach the luminary heights of literature - or pass my own strict protocols. sigh.
I think I'll just take some more medication and mooch in front of the telly before I have to go to work. Someone there gave me this heinous bug, but I'll be careful not to pass it on.