Medieval Plague

i’m currently riven with cold. it consists of a ceaseless flood of mucous and an anxious death rattle of a cough. it started the day before the frome ten and is now in full medieval peasant mode. i have been cycling to work but had zero energy and have generally felt flatter than a badger conversing with traffic on the a38. at one point on the way home i even got overtaken by a chap on mountain bike that appeared to be held together with scaffolding pudlocks. i couldn’t have chased him down if i tried. in fact, he dropped me like a sack of shit on a 2% incline across the downs. i’ve booked in an extra rest day tomorrow; i’m going to sit this beast out. if it clears by the end of the week then i’ve got the severn 25 to look forward to – hanging out with middle-aged men in lycra in a slightly seedy layby off the main road at strange o’ clock on a Sunday morning. everyone loves the graveyard.


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