Miserable Git

Am I the only one finding it hard to write at the minute . Harder and harder in fact , to write , to do anything ? I didn't even manage Alice's walk this morning . The hacking cough , which gets worse when I'm upright and outside in the cold ( conversely hardly troubles me at all when lying flat watching a dvd or in the warm bed , preferably with a paper or a book ) , the difficulty I had dragging myself back up the hundred odd steps off the beach up the cliff side yesterday at nine am when the temperature was five degrees higher , and then D saying to me " you go back to bed , I ll take Alice out " , all came together in a wonderful conspiracy to get me back up those stairs .
Later in the day I vacillated between the various plans we had considered and eventually yes , the bed won . Yet even when D brought me a second newspaper and a kit kat , I couldn't be shaken out of my Miserable Git feelings . Largely underpinned by fear ( I fear ) as the cough bears a striking resemblance to the one of last Winter which succeeded in breaking four of my ribs ( How did it do that ? Do I have an underlying condition like osteoporosis ? These are thoughts that flash through my mind but seem not to trouble the medics who have examined my medical records and x ray results . Thus was it ever ? ) and threatening my job in the process. Coupled with the fact that there has not been a day since New Year's Day when I havent had a headache , albeit most of them chased with pills and tablets , but disheartening non the less .

I've concluded that staying in bed never did anything to lift the mood , and am now plotting ways to raise the spirits .
I have a feeling that until this streaming cold and cough move on , and the headache gives up the ghost , the Miserable Git may take some shaking off .