Dying Swan

Right you lot, which one of you gave me this bug? Come on 'fess up.

Boy came down with it Monday as did Petite Ursus. I steered clear of both and on Thursday started coughing up a lung. Very, very unpleasant. Yesterday, I felt like Lurch and Mr T had been using me as a punching bag, as well as the coughing, spluttering and sniffing, every inch of me hurt. Bright light and loud noises just hurt. Thank the Goddess for Ibuprofen and trashy novels. I took a large dose of each and hid in bed.

I'm not up and about. I just got bored. I know full well I'm not really dying, I just don't do ill. I'm not of the Stiff Upper Lip, Only When I Laugh, school of thought. I do the pathetic, send tea and sympathy Dying Swan. Which is fine. I feel sick, I want looking after.

However, this is only a cold. Let's put this in perspective. By next weekend, I will be feeling lots better and will back to my whingy, whiny self. There are those amongst us who are not faring so well. We have lost another blogger. Although, I didn't read Mutley's Blog, I did see him occasionally round MJs. It has brought home the fact that life is nasty, brutish and short once again.

I blog because I have a fundemental need to reach out and annoy. The blogging community I am proud to be part of is based on humour, genuine affection and caring. When I blog of some disaster which has befallen me, no matter how big or small, I am surrounded by friendship. Blogging isn't a replacement for real life; just because the community is based on binary code, it doesn't make it any less real.

I have a favour to ask. If you blog anonymously and are part of this little community of ours, find someone who won't leak your identity, someone you can trust. Someone, who in case something should happen, will let everyone know how you're doing. Should I drop dead tomorrow, Boy will let you know. I just don't want to wonder if you've gone off the whole blogging thing, or whether you've been trapped in a mine shaft, if I don't see you about. Please?