(no subject)

I AM SO SICK. The sore throat stage that started it off a couple of days ago has thankfully passed, but I'm now into the coughing and stuffy-nose stage. I feel horrible, and there's the stupid Renaissance faire coming up this weekend. I really, really don't want to go. Of course I was looking forward to it, but if I'm this sick I'll just be miserable and won't enjoy it, and it's not like I made a new dress or anything. But my mum is making a fuss about how we have to go. Last year, when I wasn't sick, and would have given my eyeteeth to go, she refused. This year, I'm sick as a dog and would give my eyeteeth not to go, she's utterly hell-bent on getting us there if it kills me. Which it might. I think her life's mission is to make me as miserable as is humanly possible.

Gave in and started reading Thrones, Dominations like I knew I would. It's been my lifeline, taking my mind off how crappy I feel. I think I know where Dorothy Sayers broke off and Jill Paton Walsh started, but I'm so sick that I'm just happy to be in my little English 1930's glamorous fantasy world regardless of who's providing it. It would be really interesting to find out where it did break off though, just to see if I was right.

I think I should take some more cough syrup and go back to bed. Oy.