Mr Russell whines about his miserable health
Well, given how fucked I've been since Wednesday, it was no doubt foolish of me to even imagine I'd be up for Wake The Dead tonight. I have been death warmed up all day... shit night's sleep, throat like sandpaper with small sharp objects embedded in it so that swallowing and coughing are pure pain, sinuses feeling like they're about to undergo gravitational collapse, fucking appalling chest ache, ears full of wax, voice coming and going, having convulsions and shakes trying to not cough because coughing is too painful... what on Earth made me think I might be fit to go out tonight? Fortunately I realised I wasn't up for it before I left the house, if I'd gone out I can't imagine that I would've had much fun... I'm angry cos it's the last WTD for this year so there won't be another one until January, and it's pretty much my favourite club... Ascension rocked last week, but it won't be on again until February. So I think the only club that's on here for the next month after this is DM, and I don't really like it anywhere near as much as WTD... bah. Honestly, if I could just sleep for the next few days until my body had purged all this rubbish from it and didn't wake up until I was well again, I wouldn't mind at all. As it is I'm actually kind of scared to go to bed cos I know what a fucking rotten night I'll have. And what an even worse morning when I wake up. I fucking hate being sick. I am the world's worst patient when it comes to flu...