Sort of.
I'm typing this from my bed with a very confused cat staring at me. I'm not supposed to be in bed, see. I'm supposed to be out of the house. At work. Gone.
But I'm unwell. My throat feels like razor blades are having their way with it. Breathing is uncomfortable. Talking is downright impossible.
On the bright side, I had a long sleep in this morning. On the downside, there is nothing in the Magic Thermos™, which I so love to use, and there was no epic walks to work. Nor do I have my current WIP on this computer. I knew I should have saved it on my USB. And lastly, I can't practice Welsh today because I can't speak. All of today will be spent wallowing in misery in bed.
With a cat staring at me.
I guess this was bound to happen. I had been doing so well, health-wise that I was starting to get suspicious.
But I'm not going to grumble at you any longer. I'm instead going to go back to sleep, curled beneath my blankets and cursing the heat there, while not daring to stick a limb out because it is too cold there.
While I might be miserable in bed, I hope you're all having a great day. Here is a pretty picture. I'm going to sleep now.