Wednesday, because I can hear the bins being emptied. I had a grim nights disturbed sleep with a throat clamped steel trap shut and raw. My first act of the day was to seek Lemsip and then retreat back to bed. Its a sort of self imposed quarantine as I do not want to pass this on to anyone else in the family. So here I am in bed with the cyber world and books. I am desperate to get better as I have a scan on Friday and they will not do it if I am too obviously unwell. So for the moment Strepsils are my friend and books my food. Fortunately Christmas was kind to me in book terms so I have Manuel Puig’s Betrayed by Rita Heyworth to read, although my concentration span is shot at the moment. When I find I can read no more Puig I return to Big Panda and Tiny Dragon to feed me small but very wholesome brain food. It is in these times that the Dark and Tricky rises inside me and I begin to doubt all sorts of things about myself, others and the world, fortunately at this moment in time Big Panda comes to the rescue.

So here I stay becalmed by a crap cold, at least it will give me an opportunity to do the word count for the 350 poems I have to prepare for publication. That’s my first step. The day goes, I tire, take my meds and go to bed. I’m cold inside and out.