I don’t get sick very often. There isn’t time, and I don’t have the energy for it. Besides, I’m fit and well, and there doesn’t seem a very good reason to be poorly, so I consider myself lucky and I get on with things.
Last night, I got a sudden temperature and a razor-blade throat, and the husband put me to bed with a movie and some vitamin C. This was not in the plan.
If I worked for The Man, I’d just take a duvet day or get a sick note and go to bed, and not give it a second thought, but my life isn’t like that.
Tonight I’m meeting some people for dinner, and, this weekend is the biggest Black Library event of the year. I’m in Nottingham with the husband for the BL Weekender.
I’m not here officially, per se, but I am here. I’m here to talk to people and to have some fun, and to chat to the other writers, of whom I’m extremely fond, and I’m here to talk to the readers, and I’m here to support the husband a little bit, and to hang out with the BL staffers.
I was planning to have a full weekend, and now I’m going to have to scale back just a tad. The husband has stocked me up on ultra strength cold remedies and good linctus for the talking and vitamin C, and so long as there isn’t too much pressure, which I’m sure there won’t be, and everyone’s relaxed and happy, which I’m sure they will be, I’ll just bibble along and hope for the best, and I expect to spend quite a lot of time lolling about in the bar, possibly sniffing and looking a bit pale.
So, if you’re at the BL Weekender, and you want a chat, and, for whatever reason, you have trouble locating me, come and have a poke around in the corners of the bar where you’ll probably find me hugging a mug of hot chocolate or, better still, a hot toddy, and do approach, and, if I happen to growl, it’ll be the cold talking. Bear with me, and, with some good company and a little encouragement, I’m sure I’ll cheer up in no time.
Can’t wait to see you all.