When experiencing a virulent and Really Rather Serious 24 hour bout of man-flu, the following statements have been proved to be true:
Not falling asleep until 7.30am: Bad
Leaving work a slightly delirious answerphone message at 6.30am: *pinks*
Calling in sick / 'working from home'* for the first time since about 2002: Surely eligible for some kind of holy and special shiny reward? Hmm? Bastard parents and their passing on of immunities.
Realising it's a glorious day you can't enjoy: Well. Humph.
Daytime TV: "Meh". Actually not very good.
DVD box sets: Oooo.**
Feeling utter pants: Bleurgh.
Long hot baths the like of which we never normally have time for: Ahh very good.
When you have the prickly, flinching skin thing and the cold wet shower curtain slaps across your back: REALLY NOT VERY GOOD AT ALL.
Leaving of the womb-like bath: Kamikaze method favoured by subject.
Supportive texts and emails from friends and colleagues: Jolly lovely.
Bon Iver: Yes, take ten points.
A picture of Hattie Jacques from this random site to pass the time: Super.
Care package of soup and supplies from Lovely Flatmate: Really, utterly outstanding.
Finally, NAPS!: Awesome.
UPDATE: Slightly mad hair has also been found in the sample.
UPDATE NUMBER TWO: The scary little girl I thought was watching me when I woke up in my bedroom: NOT WELCOME!
* And yes, there has been. Although work requires addition of the substance Thought, and alas I think we're running on fumes, there.
** In my breaks, work chums!