Life I spent all of Monday watching telly with my feet up. Ηη (at his request) started Performing Arts Club on Monday and, unsurprisingly, we’ve been able to glean almost nothing about it out of him. He didn’t immediately complain that he hated it, so that’s good enough for me. I’d been planning on taking the tube in to work on Tuesday, but the strikes convinced me that I should have a go on the bike instead. It wasn’t too bad – only getting on and off brought about a slightly slapstick bit of achey-leg choreography. It’s a slightly uncanny sensation when you know your brain is telling a part of your body to do something but that body part outright refuses to respond. On Wednesday my immune system finally gave up the ghost and the illness floodgates opened up. I lay down for a ten-minute nap and woke up five hours later. It is frankly a miracle that it held out as long as it did given that Αα seems like she’s been composed of c. 80% snot for god knows how long (and Σσ confessed she’d…
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