The very important question you need to be asking yourselves right this second is:
Is there a roast in the glorious Cas, under the haze of cold/flu and Lemsip? Because I am not sure there is you know. Rarely have I felt less glorious, for I am sick again. I don’t think I managed to fully get last weeks lurgy out of my system – rather, it just lay low for a few days then sensed weakness and returned full force.
What other news have I got to entertain you, this cold and somewhat dreary Sunday afternoon?
Well I think I might have made a mistake when I told the Brainy Snail that one of the things I wanted out of Oxford was a man (or at least lots of potentials to have fun dating). See, it’s been a year or two since I was in the same city as the Brainy Snail: I’d forgotten how gods damned determined she can be when given a mission. If you never hear from me again it is because I have gone into hiding to escape all the men she is lining up to throw at my head! Yes, I talk the talk, but now we’ve got to see if I can walk the walk, or just retire and jibber in fear till I become the crazy-dateless-wonder-cat-lady.
I should be rejoicing, surely, that there is someone in my life who is so committed to my well-being. I am, secretly, on the inside and I am sure I will prove to be a challenge she is more than capable of dealing with. If this time next year I am still single, it will not be for want of trying on either of our parts.
But it is just, right now I feel about as appealing as… Nope. There’s nothing there. I have got through half a box of tissues in the five hours I have been awake so far today and there is no image I can conjure with the magic of my command over the English language that will do justice to the mankiness that is me. I look in the mirror and am constantly surprised it doesn’t jump off the wall and run away to cower behind the wardrobe in fear. It is very hard to summon enthusiasm for lunches where the friend-of-friend is to be persuaded to bring along his friend, when the thing I am most looking forward to is another in an endless procession of mugs of tea…
Hmmm, wonder if I can persuade my lovely landlord to make me a cuppa… (He needs a blog name I have just noticed)…
Back on rambling track.
Yup, that has decided me. I am not roasting today. Roasting requires energy and wit and enthusiasm, three things that deserted me like so many rats when the Titanic of my immune system started taking on water. Instead I am going to succumb to the lure of the kettle, then take myself back to bed and encourage you all to take a step outside your RSS readers for once and admire the glory that is the new Bright Meadow. It won’t always be this pink, but it will always be this fantabulous, thanks to Tam.