I am typing this laid in bed. To be fair I’m wearing my Christmas jumper (the one with Rudolf sporting a huge red sequin nose) just in case people come and visit me. I don’t want to be accused of not keeping the festive spirit going.
Every year it’s the same old thing. You have a hint of a cold just sitting on your chest – taunting you while you charge through December at an inhuman pace, adrenaline coursing through your veins. It battles admirably with your cold, beating it down when it threatens to floor you. There’s no time to be ill – we have work to do plus shopping, wrapping, baking, entertaining. This year in a battle between flu and fighting fit – fitness will prevail.
You get to the last working day and triumphantly skip out of the office ready for ten days of eating, drinking (well not for me) and making merry then just as you let your defences down the evil flu gathers its army (a bit like the scene in the Two Towers) and batters your defences.
Still it’s two days to Christmas and I’m determined to fight back. It’s actually quite nice lying in bed under my lovely new goose and duck down duvet and watching reruns of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on my iPad (I know I’m shallow but I’m too weak for anything deeper).
Hopefully tomorrow fitness will prevail!