I woke up feeling rotten today, which I blamed on sleeping on La Serpiente’s floor, but the chill in my bones and the ache in my joints didn’t subside as the day went on. I was hoping I was just sore from my run last night, but it feels like I’ve come down with a cold, the least best thing to happen three weeks before the marathon.
I came home from work and fell asleep on the sofa, while the children covered me in Peppa Pig stickers, and when I finally dragged myself back to consciousness, the only intellectual workload I had was to read Destroyer a book about fairies and cupcakes. Which I really should write a review of, as we’re behind on children’s book reviews right now.
My wife was exhausted from the twin tasks of managing the kids and getting curtains installed: the good news is that our room is finally pitch black after over two years, so if I wasnt feverish and sore, I’d probably get a good sleep tonight.