During the course of yesterday I felt gradually more and more ill. It set in slowly, beginning with a cloudy head and then moving south, by 2am nestling horribly in my throat making it almost impossible to sleep. I woke up complaining this morning as my mouth feels like it's on fire and, despite a solid 8 hours sleep, I'm devestatingly tired. Instead of taking any form of medicine or even contemplating a trip to the doctor's I have planned a day of moaning and looking for sympathy.
Over the past few days I've been asked for interviews by a few, wonderfully named, student newspapers. To begin with we had the Brighton Badger, this was followed by Oxford university and their Cherwell paper, and today I've had an email from the Warwick Boar. If the Gateshead Goose, the Upminster Fairy or the Bradford Ape fancy asking me a few questions, you'll find me on email all day, complaining about my sore throat to anyone who will listen.
PS. Listen to 'My Brother, The Astronaut' by Elle Milano