Really really cold.
Teeth-chatteringly, bone-rattlingly, freezing cold.
I just cannot get warm. Despite having my vest tucked into my knickers, plus 4 layers of thermal clothing, plus two fleecy blankets I feel chilled to the marrow.
I strongly suspect I'm coming down with something. My eyes hurt, my skin hurts, my head hurts.
I'm basically all hurty.
This is not good. Especially as I should be working flat out for KDF next Saturday and normally at this point in the run up to a fair I should be putting in 14 hour days and generally panicking like a panicking thing. However I simply can't summon up the energy to panic so at the moment I'm fairly sanguine.
Feeling like death warmed up... but sanguine.
Not to worry though........ the entire thing may be taken completely out of my hands by the incipient blizzards forecast to blanket the UK and bring civilisation as we know it, to an abrupt end.
The good people of St. Leonards are certainly taking warnings of the looming apocalypse seriously. Likewise, in anticipation of the potential for being snowed in at the top of our hill and due to having no food in the house, we were forced to visit Tesco this morning, where I dragged myself around the store, trying to remain vertical while all the time wishing I could just lie down under the shelves and block out the light and noise. I've rarely seen the store so busy, unless you count the few days right before Christmas when the prospect of having the shop shut for a whole 24 hours, makes people feel the need to panic buy. On our way in we encountered hordes of shoppers, herding trolleys piled high with store cupboard essentials.
In my mildly hallucinatory state, the combination of hyper-crazed screaming children, ultra-bright lighting, end-to-end frenzied tannoy announcements for all checkout operators to go to the tills and the cut and thrust of trolley jousting in the packed aisles, I began to feel as if I had been catapulted onto the set of a Tim Burton film, probably in the role of the Corpse Bride, which I inadvisedly watched this afternoon.
Don't get me wrong, I greatly admire Burton's films but if you are already barely functioning and in a spacey, dreamlike state they're a bit scary and the line between fantasy and reality starts to blur. Nevertheless I'm toying with the idea of watching Sweeney Todd later so think on. My grasp of the line between fantasy and reality is tenuous at the best of times so I'm determined to push the boundaries and see where I end up.
Bravado or what...
Edit - Small Dog is currently sitting so close to the fire that I swear I can smell the delicate aroma of singeing Yorkie.