Or is it? I’ve finally succumbed to the throat thingy that my husband had throughout Christmas. I admit to thinking he was exaggerating at the time, but I may have been wrong. OK, I was wrong, as it’s very unpleasant. I thought I was a fairly quiet person, but it turns out I relied on my voice quite a lot, and am incredibly frustrated without it. Couldn’t sing along to ‘The One And Only’ after pressing the red button to see the sing-a-long words; couldn’t comment on programmes/adverts/news stories – you get the picture? Maybe that was a good thing.
Fortunately, I speak a little BSL (British Sign Language) that I learned at school, as a member of the SVP (a voluntary organisation which helped others in the community…and allowed us to get on first lunches). I had the foresight to teach this to my husband and we’re getting by using a system of basic signing and written notes (though I keep annoying him by losing my pen). What I can’t do, however, is use the telephone and people are finding this very annoying, for some reason. So if you call me and I can’t talk, I’m not shunning you, I’m signing frantically at hubby, trying to get my message across. There’s an ongoing, bizaare game of charades in this house.
So, I’ve been sitting here , in pyjamas, scarf wrapped around my throat, feeling like everyone hates me but it triggered an idea for book two, so it isn’t all bad. If only I could write it instead of thinking about it!
Still no response from my publisher (or their accountant lady) but my Counselling leader said I don’t have to forfeit. Just wish I was well enough to get back to some semblence of reality.
I’m going to leave you with something funny I was sent by my youngest dog’s brother’s mam (?!), but I’ll post it separately under the title ‘Pet Rules’.