My body manifests its dissatisfaction with my current mood in the form of slow decay.
I haven’t been ill for ages, yet, here I am during the very first good days of the year crawling around with mountains of used tissues in my pockets.
I know it’s me, because the timing is right.
I also know it’s me because I’ve been through this before.
The dry throat, the swollen tonsils. I’m not a fan of the term “psychosomatic”.
However I know, that when the soul is tired, the body follows.
I’m waiting for a cold sore, to add to the party.
It’s fine, I will get through this. And it’s funny if you think about it.
My body is mad with my brain. Or maybe it is that it sympathises?
For the moment, meds are my friends.
Vitamins and cold and flu recipes have always been there for me in times of great discomfort.
I just wish I don’t miss any sunny days because of this shit.