It serves me right. I was getting cocky. Oh, sure, I knocked on wood when I mentioned it, and rolled my eyes in the I-hope-I'm-not-jinxing-this kind of way. But I thought I got away with it. I believed this winter would leave me alone. But no. I'm on the lemsip and sudafed. My chest feels of sandpaper and sinuses are gripped by a vice. I've not spoken yet today, but feel I'll be all Louis Armstrong when the words come out. 

I'm still going to work. There's wine to taste. Just hoping I can taste it.