Seduced by Signs

There is precious little to say about a third day secluded indoors, unless I was to discuss the weird dreams of a disrupted night's sleep, culminating in one in which I finish the midweek mass and then watch Frs Duncan and Kevin (from Lamford days) talk to each other while I am strangled by my facemask. Since getting up on Wednesday and feeling iffy, I've moved on to grotty, and I wonder whether it would have been worse had I not had my three vaccinations, or whether they have made no difference at all. In fact my symptoms are not very different from those of the cold I had a couple of weeks ago, or of any other moderately annoying cold I've ever had. It's been inconvenient enough already, and of course what I would like to happen is for my next covid test on Sunday evening to be clear, followed by another on Monday, or I am going to have to rearange yet more events I am supposed to be taking part in. Given the stage things seem to be at presently - an irritating dry cough appearing - I am not very confident of that. Like listening neurotically to the news to work out whether we're all going to be alive in a week, anxiously analysing every passing sensation to see if it presages your condition getting better is pointless - but I suspect we all do it!

The Messy Church team are determined to press on with the gathering tomorrow. Obviously I can't lead the worship bit but all they really need is something to occupy everyone in church while the hall is set up for tea. Jack is going to do it. I only hope what he has in mind doesn't involve reciting 'Albert and the Lion' like usual.