It must be because I lied when I was seventeen.

I cannot think of any other reason for the Universe to punish me by striking me down with a chest infection, making it ease up a bit and then WHAM! Hitting me with a sinus infection.

(As an aside, I really enjoy starting a sentence, bringing it to an abrupt halt by saying 'WHAM!' and then finishing it in the next sentence. Partially because it is a very sophisitcated and cool literary device, obviously, but also because it makes me burst into internal renditions of Club Tropicana, which is just nice. I said internal renditions, so don't panic.)

Anyway, sinus infections are like really horrible hangovers without the empty tequila bottles and emergency tattoo-removal laser surgery. It even hurt to watch TV. That is some CRUEL illness, I tell you. Yesterday there were points at which I would have cheerfully exchanged a leg for some pain-free Charmed viewing.

In better news: I am on the mend! Which basically means I can go back to work, move into my flat, and wear make up again. I am still coughing, though, which I'm secretly pleased about because it means I can demonstrate to people that, yes, I am perhaps still a little bit poorly, but I am also a Very Brave Soldier who is Battling On Through and should probably be bought some treats at some point, and who should almost certainly have a badge or two made for her.

Anyway, I appear to be blogging on a Friday night, which starkly contradicts my cool, rebelllious wild-child image, so I must desist at once. I have DRUGS to take, though, so that's cool, right? I mean, antibiotics ROCK and you all know it.