Bombay bed-mate

Indie stayed with me most of the day. I stayed in bed, and slept a few times, mostly while watching Netflix. 
Saw a poignant film called 'It snows in Benidorm' starring Timothy Spall, and a documentary about Freddie Mercury. Pointless much later on (woke up during the music round). Now it's Big Little Crimes. I haven't fallen asleep yet. Too much poisoning going on. "The dead man's wife had kept a bucket of vomit in her garage". Sure, don't we all have one of those? 

I'm taking some bright orange Beecham's tablets and they seem to help with what now seems like sinusitis. Thank goodness the sore throat is now receding. Was forced to take another CoVid test at work yesterday, and that was negative. 

I' m surprised that I still feel hungry. Surely lying around in bed does not generate much appetite? A, my colleague, brought round some Strepsils (because Steve now has a sore throat) and, bizarrely, Fry's Turkish Delight. My student S brought round some gf biscuits, cooked chicken, and slipper socks. So kind of them! Perhaps I should try this being ill malarkey more often?