Breathe

God, I feel crap.

Had a perfectly lovely day: did a day's work this morning, then off to town for a random encounter with young & lovely friends, then a stroll downriver for non-random lunch with equally lovely friends, then we all piled into a car and drove to the best second-hand bookstore in the country where I signed lots of my own (I supply 'em) and cashed in lots of credit to come home with lots of other people's, and then we went to Alnwick Gardens for Val McDermid's latest booklaunch, and it was all fab.

And then I got dropped off back at home, and now I am wheezing like fuck and nothing I can do will fix it, it's like someone sucked all the oxygen out of the air. At this point I could get marvellously paranoid, 'cos we went round the Poison Garden in Alnwick and it would be dreadfully easy to believe that I'd inhaled some poisonous wossname (I am stupid as well as breathless: what's the word for that microscopic stuff that plants chuck around with gay abandon? All I can think of is sperm, and that's not what I mean, no, not at all...)(spore! that's what! told you I was stupid...) except that this happens sometimes and I've been building up to it for a week or two and I could feel it coming and did lay in extra medicaments or tried to, only the stupid doctors wouldn't let me have the inhalers that I need so I guess I just have to wheeze it out.

Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels wheeze you to your rest...