The 19th of October. Oh, no. It seems I have developed a dry cough that is unproductive and is just an irritance. It also makes it very difficult to indulge in one of my favourite activities - talking.
I had Zopiclone again last night so my sleep was pretty unbroken which was nice and I didn't get up until half past eight.
I watched Sunday Brunch, and Mommy washed my hair. This afternoon, I've read The Blue Nowhere, crocheted, and watched Agents of SHIELD. I need to catch up before the new series starts.
The reason I don't think about the really big stuff is because it makes me like this - lovelorn and lonely, pining after something I can never have.
The 20th of October.
I seem to be rather poorly. I am coughing up junk and it has just got worse throughout the day. I really haven't done anything in an effort to conserve energy for Ed Sheeran tonight.
He was super super good. For one man to hold an entire arena by himself for two hours is pretty spectacular. I couldn't join in with all the crowd singalongs he was initiating because I would have bust a gut coughing. He can sing and play really well live. His rapping is also very accomplished - you can tell he has a frustrated hip hop star within. I was slightly offended by his insinuation that loads of women only liked The Hobbit since he was on the soundtrack. I think he'll find some women have liked LOTR since it was in cinemas back in the day.
I am utterly exhausted and am not sure how I'm going to get upstairs.
