Sicky

I’ve retreated to the bedroom. I’ve been ill all day and even though I’ve scarcely been out of bed for two hours, here I am again, hiding from the family. The Relatives are down for the Youngest’s birthday and the house is to girly and loud for my tender constitution tonight.
I feel rough. I woke up with a massive temperature. The Girlf assured me she could actually feel the heat emanating from me from all the way across the bed. The night had been fitful and restless, I must have been up half a dozen times and even though I was fucked this morning I still got up when she got up.
Now I’m regretting this, I should have blocked out the world and gone straight back to sleep but no that would have been to easy. Instead I got online and settled down to a day of pampering which although promised wasn’t forthcoming. Neither was my Night Nurse. Birthday parties have taken precedence over my comfort and the Girlf placed more importance on buying the essentials for her three tiered chocolate cake than buying me the medicine I needed.
Thus goes my first bank holiday off for over a decade. My last one was in May ’97. I don’t often pull sickies, in-fact if my memory serves me correctly I’ve managed to incorporate my last two bouts of flu into my days off. I’m considerate like that.
There was no getting past this though today, I am one big ache, although in fairness to me I was diligent enough to pump out a forty hour weekend before I was struck down. I think I’ve earned a day in bed.
The Girlf is delirious to have me for three days this week. She’s on leave at the moment so she’s got me all day tomorrow and Thursday. She’s very, very, very happy. Her love for me is so intense that most nights, whilst I’m working, she bombards me with love texts. Pledging herself to me and describing the agony she feels from the separation. It is very sweet.
She’s also very turned on by my pathetic weakness. I can’t fight off her advances, I don’t have the energy and she’s taking delight in being able to force her self on me. Normally I’m a whirling tornado of testosterone, a sexual tyrannosaur and much as she enjoys my dominant, relentless, don’t-take-no-for-an-answer nature I think she’s relishing the role reversal. The machine is having an off day and she’s filling the vacuum with gusto.
I must get plenty of sleep tonight, more relatives are scheduled to descend tomorrow and I’m told I’m cooking. Also tomorrow is the day of the BIRTHDAY PARTY. All in all there will be thirty people under our roof and the biggest single demographic will be TEN YEAR OLD GIRLS. Already on the ‘threat’ list she has a Tweeny disco organised either proceeded or followed by a make-over session run by the Eldest and her mate.
I can see the carnage now, at some point I will be pebble dashed with either nail polish or glitter or both. Thankfully the threat to paint the gym pink for the aforementioned disco hasn’t been carried out. The Girlf wasn’t winding me up over it, in the end she was hindered by her extreme laziness and poor time management. I knew she wouldn’t do it but it was one of those keep your mouth shut and watch it play out situations. I love being right.
I suppose I’ve been ignorant enough and best get downstairs and be sociable. This is a rare visit and I am being naughty. I debating a whisky, purely for medicinal reasons you understand. The Night Nurse never materialised so I’m sure I can justify it.