Well, that was a whole lot of no fun

Urgh. Woke up yesterday with a blinding headache, feeling dizzy & sick when I moved; so I swallowed painkillers and stayed in bed until the cats woke me for their breakfast, which turned out to be lunchtime. When I was supposed to be elsewhere, and lunching...

Whoops. But they wouldn't have liked me. I fed the cats (double-rations, to avoid the need for supper) and crawled back to bed. And tried being up again in mid-afternoon, but it really wasn't working; that whole upright thing was just horrid.

So basically I spent the day in bed, swallowing any chemicals I could reach and groaning gently, for yes, I am pathetic when I'm ill.

God alone knows what it was, but it seems to have gone away. Today I'm just extravagantly tired. Which, oddly, I was also the day before yesterday, I remember grumbling about it. Maybe it was a harbinger. Of something. Note to harbingers: not useful, unless more clear of what impends. Which has always been my grumble against prophecy, in fiction or otherwise: if it's only understood in retrospect, then it serves no use at all and should just go away.