I'm not getting sick, again

So...what have I been up to lately? Not much, I guess. I'm a bit sick, again. Not happy about it.

I've noticed something weird since I've been in London. Anytime I have an alcoholic drink, even if it's just a half-pint of cider and I don't even get tipsy, I wake up the next morning with a scratchy throat. On Halloween, the sort throat turned into a full-on infection, and I was coughing for a couple weeks. Then this week, I had that cup of mulled wine on Saturday, and woke up Sunday with a scratchy throat that has worsened over the last couple days. I looked at my throat with a flashlight on Sunday, and the whole back of my throat looked bloodshot. Sunday night, I dreamt of cough drops. I bought some yesterday, and today in class, after sucking on one, my throat got completely itchy and inflamed. I had to do that gross thing where you try to scratch your throat with the back of your tongue (Becky knows what I'm talking about). This morning, I coughed up some phlegm, and there was blood in it! I'm clearly dying of TB.

Anyway, my throat hates me. I had a doctor appointment scheduled for tomorrow night, but they just called to cancel. I'll have to skip part of epidemiology to go in. I can't continue with my throat like this!

All in all, though, I'm not letting my throat stand in the way of life in London. On Sunday, I went Christmas shopping with Holly, but only ended up spending money on clothes for myself. There is a green shirt that I decided I had to own in order to go on living a happy life. I feel a bit bad for that, because I really haven't been spending much on anyone else. You're all getting cheap trinkets and stuff. :-) But I did make up for it a bit by going Christmas shopping on Monday and returning some of the clothes I bought for myself. Sunday night, I met my friend, Alex, in the library and got a couple hours of work done on my TB essay. Then Alex came over and we watched Love, Actually in my residence hall DVD room. It felt weird to look at all the scenes I had seen before and think, "I live there," instead of "I really want to live there." Result!

Monday night, Laura and I went to the inaugural session of Dance Aerobics in our hall. For some reason, I thought it would be heavier on the aerobics and lighter on the dance. Silly me. What with having neither rhythm nor coordination, I had a bit of trouble. Luckily, so did everyone else (though not as much trouble as me). The teacher quickly realized that we were all useless, and had to slowly walk us through each step. I think it was really frustrating for her as a dancer, but she was really nice about it. Not like those parkour drill sargeants. It's becoming more and more clear to me that I'm really not meant to exercise. I can walk miles around London, but anything more strenuous than that and my body collapses into a heap of aching, uncoordinated spasms.

In about half an hour, I set off for Cinderella pantomime. Yaaayy!! I'm so excited about it, I even shaved my legs. Then I covered them up with jeans, but the effort is what counts.