Monday 20th August 2018

I woke up knowing something was wrong. That I was hotter than a Christmas Turkey at four in the afternoon, and had been being basted for hours. I was hot and getting hotter.

And was a little discombobulated.

I did make it down the stairs to drink the coffee Jools had made. Drinking it turned me into a sweat fountain.

Nice.

So, Jools goes to work, and leaves me with the cats, who have both gone to bed, so I sit on sofa and try to work out if it just me or was the wall to next door waving back and forth. Under the circumstances, I decide not to work, so pop an e mail to by two bosses (don't ask}, and I take to the sofa, laying under a blanket where soon I am freezing.

So I go for a shower, and soon am boiling over again.

So lay down on the sofa and soon am freezing again.

And so the day continues, with me dozing, sweating and shivering in front of the TV as it plays a soundtrack to my sickday.

Come the evening, I was feeling a little better, so do prepare dinner for Jools as she had been hard working, conducting interviews as there is to be a Mini-Jools at the factory.

We have chorizo hash, I eat a half portion, which tastes good, but after take to the my sich bed to listen to the football. I sleep though the preamble, as they discuss if Jose is mad or just bad.

Jools brings me a brew and some chocolate, and if I am honest, is one of the best cuppas I have had in years. I stay awake to listen to the Liverpool v Palace game, and pretty good it sounds too.