Well, the cold has gone away, leaving as its sole detectable residue a sore bit on the end of my nose where flesh met paper a few too many times. I can at last breathe, even though I'm not greatly motivated to do so.
Which brings me to The Depression. No, not that one, just my own little personal one. Those of you who've never been got by depression, get into your favourite Universe-thanking position and start thanking. Now. With any luck, you'll stay safe.
I can't see that feeling useless, worthless and pointless is of any benefit to anyone, unless you happen to be called Adam Lambsbreath. And not much, even if so.
I have a date. But before you get excited, it's not that kind of date. Just another MRI scan to see how much more my back has messed up in the last few years so that they can work out what, if any, surgery I'm going to get. 22nd of March, 18:50 hours.
And the little bit of recent brightness? Or, rather, the amazing huge fantastic wonderful life-sustaining bit of brightness? Jus and I had our 14th anniversary last Saturday. I dn't know how he's put up with me for so long, I really don't.
Anyway, back to trying not to feel so utterly angst-wracked.