Nice

I must be nicer.
I must be nicer.
I must be nicer.

I like the word nice – maybe not to use in writing – but it says what I mean. I am a nice person; not perfect, but mostly I am nice, in a kind of bland and average way.

I’m no Mother Teresa but nor am duplicitous. I try not to judge too quickly and if I do, I try to give people a chance, even a second chance. I sit uncomplainingly next to the mad aunt at the wedding or the neighbour with halitosis. I’m kind.

Today I’m sick. I have been since Sunday evening. I’ve only got a rotten cold, but I feel crappy. Add to that that a chronic grumbly belly that I finally went to the docs about and returned with three different tablets. I feel horrid.

Today in Bangkok it’s hot. It’s always hot in Bangkok and most days I need air con in my office. Today I need it, but it’s also too cold all at the same time so I am wearing a moth holey cashmere jumper that was so expensive (despite being a sale item) I refuse to get rid of it (Can you see the holes from there? No, well I’m not offending anyone then.) I am – and this is a first in Thailand even for me – wearing sheepskin slippers that I bought in the UK. They are delicious; comforting and like eating chocolate.

That’s how I know I’m sick. So why, if I know I am sick, am I being so horrible to myself?

I must be nicer to myself.

When I am well again I will decide if I can’t write for toffee; if I am going to give up trying to write a book. Not yet.

No more sickness of any kind...

On Friday night we went out as a family to eat steak. We had a really lovely meal but I was stuffed full, TTT, (tummy touching table) and should have walked home, but was wearing silly shoes so we had to take a taxi.

On Saturday we went shopping. Husband bought GIGANTIC trainers for Son. Son is 13 years old and is wearing sized 10 trainers, and we both felt a bit sick. Last time Husband bought trainers for Son he was a child sized 10. Daughter was bought her first something that I shouldn’t discuss here, for sensitivity reasons, and now between the two of them, I feel about 74. Husband bought me my birthday present (a week early) which made me a bit sick with excitement. (I am neither 74 nor 75 on this upcoming birthday!)

On Saturday night we met friends at the Londoner pub for the rugby. Oh my, sick with anticipation, but so as not to offend my Australian readership, I shall be calm and gracious (- but we always get beaten, so it was fab…)

On our way to Sunday lunch, I issued a pronouncement.

‘No more sick children. I want to go to my office this week’.

And that is what I shall do.

I admit defeat...

Oooh I am feeling rotten today. Maybe that explains my inertia yesterday?

I got a sore throat last night, and now I'm headachey, snotty, achey.

And I'm just a tad fed up with the hole in my foot.

I will come back when I feel fit and well.