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Life Beyond the Bastard Bug

Last week, I succumbed to a microscopic super-bug.  Not only did it successfully incapacitate me for a week, but it also made me feel emotionally fragile.

I was so close finishing a 92,000 edit when I woke up one morning feeling like someone had been massaging my tonsils with sandpaper during the night. Twenty-four hours later, I was flat on my back, every inch of my aching body having surrendered to a micro-beast. 🤒

Micro-beast

During my supine week, the fug in my head made it difficult to process most things, let alone finish the edit.  I did still retain the brainpower to operate the TV remote, but everything I watched made me cry.

I wept about Megan and Harry, leaving dear old blighty for Canada, in between binge-watching The Crown, when I started crying every time Hanz Zimmer’s powerful theme tune started playing.  My depression wasn’t entirely focussed around the factual and fictional goings-on within our Royal Family,  because I finished my first box of man-sized tissues watching Notting Hill, for the umpteenth time. Puppy dog Hugh Grant and his floppy fringe always did it for me in 1999, and still does 20 years on.

I tried sleeping off the bastard bug but, sleep eluded me as I sweated out the virus, while agonising about when I was going to get around to finish editing my 92,000 words.

I am glad to report that, as soon as swatted the minibeast, I finished my edit remarkably quickly.  So to anybody currently suffering from the ‘flu, or another miserable virus, I am living proof that there is life beyond the bastard bug.  I hope you get well soon.

 

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2 thoughts on “Life Beyond the Bastard Bug

Thank you very much for visiting my niche-less blog! If you have time before you leave, would love you to tell us what you think. All the best, Tessa Barrie

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