*edited* My chances of murdering something today are larger than usual…

I love N. I really, really do. But I don’t love him right now… oh no. No. He’s got man-flu. Which means no sleeping, lots of snot and coughing and just general crappiness… and it’s ten-times-worse because he is a man. I do feel for him, and he has my sympathy 100% for the cold/flu part, but not for the “man” part.

I have been up for pretty much the entire night since 12.30am. To be fair, I did manage to dose off on the floor (yes, on the floor) and in bed once N got up and started playing Call of Duty Modern Warfare, but dosing is nowhere near sleeping and I’ve gotta say I feel dead on my feet. And I’ll give N credit… he didn’t dose off at all, so he’s been wide-eyed and bushy-tailed since midnight. But still.

I’ve already had a large coffee and an energy drink and so far so nothing. And I’m on my own which doesn’t help either. I really just want to crawl up in a corner somewhere quiet and just close my eyes–not even sleep! I’d be happy just to rest my eyes which feel like sandpaper right now. I’m pretty sure the insides of my eyelids have been shredded to bits.

For all of you nay-sayers, man-flu does exist! Or at least there’s a reason men deal with sickness more pitifully than women… they’re genetically inferior. That’s right… I went there.

I’m pretty sure someone is going to get smacked with a blunt object today, nevermind a sharp one at this point. I’d even settle for smacking someone with a large, rubbery fish today… just for sheer comedic value.

But I doubt I’d laugh… I’m too tired.


If you’re interested in getting in touch, tweet me at @stephanie_khani or @londondiaries1.  Alternatively you can email me at emailthelondondiaries [at] gmail.com.

*edit* I so should not have made fun of N… I’ve just woken up from a restless night’s sleep feeling like death.  Fab.

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