So, like many people this time of year I have been given the invaluable gift of illness and consequential bed-locked torture.
It’s the sort of cold that when anything touches you it feels like daggers shooting through your skin.
My head feels like someone is filing it with sandpaper.
It’s probably for the best that I leave it at that and refrain from sharing any similes of my sinuses, however!
But of course, being bound to a mattress all day does lead to some inevitable mindful pondering.
For example, I was just thinking about freedom and safety, and which of the two is more important.
But which is it?
If only my immune system could have concocted such strength in the face of my enemies!