Thorpey says it’s fully sick

It’s Sunday morning in the Land of Pam. A typical Sunday morning will consist of two activities that will never coexist. One is that I will be at my gym concentrating on reaching the unrealistic goal of obtaining a box gap whilst being surrounded by men fighting over the leg press. The other activity is that I will be lamenting a hangover brought on by the lethal combination of cider, vodka and lack of common sense. This morning is different. I am struggling to remain seated and having a worse struggle to breathe though my nose.

Pretty sure the flu has claimed another victim. Me.

Who knows how I obtained it. Oh that’s right, I work in retail and a customer (or customers) has breathed on me, thus transferring their disgusting germs and making me sick. The point is, whenever I am sick I start whining like a country music singer and I sound like Snuffleufagus and Fran Drescher’s love child (what gender is Snuffleufagus, anyway?). Doctor waiting rooms are hell to me. Surrounded by children who haven’t been brought up to cover their mouth when coughing (and adults who partake in the same, disgusting behaviour) and copies of New Idea from when Brad Pitt was married to Jennifer Aniston as the doctor runs an hour late. I’m worse than a male with a case of Man Flu. Pam Flu is a pandemic that needs to be eradicated.

I’m hoping it’s a 24 hour thing and sleep will soothe the symptoms. It’s unlikely at this rate. Now excuse me while I blow my nose…….


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