If you were me, this is how yesterday would have happened.
7.23am – Wake up. Hurrah! First day of 6 week Chi-Building journey of discovery. Try to get out of bed but head is dizzy. Throat sore. Stagger to bathroom and look at self in mirror. Would have been v disconcerted by pale face, lank hair, dry lips (Vampire look) but am suddenly preoccupied with throbbing twitch in back of knee cap.
7.24am – Stagger back to bed and collapse.
Ads – “What’s wrong?”
Me – “Erghhh. Sore throat. Twitchy nerves. Dying.”
“Babe, you need a Lemsip. I’ll go and see if we have some.”
“Can’t” I croak. “Am chi-building. Can’t drink pharmaceuticals.”
8.33am – Get call from mother to remind me that Pix has dental appointment. Mum has become my dedicated PA in last few months. Should be pleased, but find it psychologically painful. More painful now I’m ill.
10.43am – Park car in Leisure Centre Car park in torrential rain (free parking and near to dentist). Angry drivers everywhere. Gaze vacantly at them whilst smacking lips. Have v peculiar taste in mouth.
10.44am – Still vacantly lip smacking whilst having nostalgic thoughts about bringing children here as babies to swim. Moment of grief-ridden broodiness overwhelms me.
10.45am – Kids start arguing in back of car about who brushes their teeth more. Broodiness vanishes like a fairy-liquid bubble going pop.
10.50am – Dentist tells me in long-winded way that Pix needs a brace. I listen with glazed Vampire eyes. Something in me laughs dryly to self when dentist adds that his wife happens to be the best orthodontist on the island. Have become a bitter, grumpy cynic before my time. Or perhaps Vampire eyes have given me ice-clear perceptive abilities and can see through Dentist’s sales pitch? Dentist smiles at me charmingly. Like a sleezy Prince Charming. Before I can croak anything, stomach gives v loud rumble and I realise I have eaten nothing.
Not very pro-chi.
11.30am – Arrive at mum’s, unpeel soaking coat and hang it up. Find a dry fleece in cupboard and put on before skin shrivels under cling-film covering of goose bumpy torture. Run to kitchen where Aga is warm and suddenly gravitate towards a plate of triple chocolate cake left over from Mum’s birthday barbeque at the weekend. Before I know what’s happened I’ve eaten it.
I have failed! I have failed Day 1! What will Golden Curly say?
Mum comes in. “You don’t look very well.”
“Oh – do you want a paracetemol?”
“Here, take these.” She pushes five sachets of Sainsburys Flu and Cold powder into my hands. They are very worn and crumpled looking, as if they had been in her medicine cupboard since the early 80s.
“No – I’m fine.” Push them back at her. Twitchy knee suddenly feels even worse. And I’ve eaten cake.
“Take them. Take them.”
Am too weakened to fight.
Put the sachets in my satchel and mumble something about drinking them later.
12.13pm – Leave Pix and Roo with PA/ Nanny/ Mother and limply – twitchily – drag self to car, drive home and sleep for five hours.
4.35pm – Woken by Ads coming in from work. “I’ll make you a Lemsip.” Feeling hyper-tense, I hide under duvet and eventually he goes away. I fall back to sleep.
5.58pm – Ads and kids, in order to support my chi-building process, order curry and pizza. I am drinking a pint of juice that contains practically every green vegetable in the fridge. As a last addition, popped in some lemon, ginger and beetroot and what tasted like pond water, became like a pint of cold Lemsip. Feeling smug. In fact, screw you pharmaceuticals. I juice Liquid Immunity.
6.04pm – Just consumed a plate of green stuff; spring greens, rocket, water cress, pickled garlic, olives, pickled mushroom things from the deli, avocado, cucumber and grated beetroot. Feeling bloated on vegetable matter. Weird. Have decided to give Yoga a miss today as if I bend over I think my head might implode. Re. meditation. Have decided that sleeping all afternoon applies as same thing.
8.34pm – Oh dear. Ads feeling poorly. Plan was to sit in bed and watch film together, but now his nose has become very blocked and his chest is crackly. Have quizzed him about whether his nerves are twitchy. They are not.
“Babe, I need a Lemsip,” he croaks.
“I will make you one.” Since drinking my juice and eating the salad I am not exactly feeling better, but I feel like I have some power in my veins.
8.36pm – Stagger downstairs, boil kettle, get 1980s Sainsbury Cold and Flu relief sachets out of bag, pour in hot water, make self a fennel tea (tea bag – not garden fennel as I would get hypothermia leaving the house in PJs at this time of night) and then stagger up to bed.
8.39 – Energy so spent from making Ads his pharmecutical broth that can not bare the thought of watching film and instead shut eyes.
I’m not sure how the others got on with their first day of the Groove-athon.
I think I did okay though. Considering.