As I’ve had one of those since January. You know the kind of thing.
Nothing bad enough to stay home from work for or that you can explain to the manager but bad enough to feel wrecked every night.
Nothing bad enough to have your friends fussing over you with tea and biscuits, but enough so that the little errands of life become hard work.
Good enough even to chance the pub even though you’re usually too tired for chit chat conversation and pay for your excess of going to bed after eleven with three days of feeling even worse.
Nothing you can really put you’re finger on and explain to people, but bad enough that you’ve lost your spark.
I should really count my blessings. There are many people out there who are really ill or in pain and who’d kill to have my level of health.
But I’m a whimp and I’m fed up with scraping by when I want to enjoy myself.
Virus, bacterium or whatever you are: just go away now. Please.