I saw my French doctor yesterday for the very first time. He told me I have tonsillitis. (He is so not my favorite person right now. Except, he did give me the drugs. OK, back on the Christmas card list he goes).
I’m cranky, sick, and icky.
(And I look pretty icky too. Sick is not a good look on me)
The Husband has left for work and Fifty is being pretty worthless. I keep asking him to make me tea but he just sits there, staring at me. I’m not impressed.
Fifty, “WHERE IS MY TEA?”
(I can only shout while typing at the moment.)
Maybe I’ll call Ruby.