I spent most of the day asleep, occasionally creeping from my shell to tell someone that I wouldn’t be able to do [whatever they wanted] on account of the fact that I find my ability to move somewhat impaired.
I do successfully locate the mains cable for the portable radio, which allows me spend much of the day drifting in and out of Radio 3 (including a Mahler symphony, which makes a jolly good accompaniment to fevered dreaming, very dramatic), to listen to Mark Steel on Napoleon and to The Archers, where the whole wretched adultery plotline carries on unabated. In fact it looked like they were going for two simultaneous adultery plotlines with Simon and Brenda, but thankfully they pulled out of that. I need my will to live at the moment and that might have sapped me of it.
My current hugely-wide-of-the-mark Archers prediction: that Kenton will accidentally kill his sister Elizabeth (who has a heart condition) at the Hallowe’en party next week. Or not kill, but make quite poorly. This is The Archers after all.
Feeling a lot… well, not better but less inclined to fall over during the evening. You may not care, but it means a lot to me.