It started out pretty simple, this illness that has currently got me wanting to curl up under a blanket and not come out for a week. I assumed it was something that Sophie gave me, since generally when she gets ill, I get it too. And she was, in point of fact, ill on Saturday. Not terribly, just a little snotty and with a tiny bit of a fever, which is how my symptoms manifested, and so I wasn’t worried about it. Sunday however, about halfway through the day, I was very hot, very snotty, and very unhappy. Yesterday, that was absolutely fucking brutal. I knew I was doomed when I woke up in the morning and felt as though I had a flaming pineapple stuck in the middle of my throat. On top of that was the alternating freezing chills and sweat-drenched fever spells. The wracking cough was a good touch too, in a very “Victorian dying of tuberculosis” sort of way.
