Came home from work at 11am feeling rough as sandpaper, should probably have guessed this likely outcome after a morning spent doubled over, shivering in bed. Somehow it is now gone 7pm, which means I've slept an entire day away. Things I want when I'm ill: company, solitude, immediate access to Telma chicken soup, sweet tea, silence, radio, painkillers targeted right at my pain with a big fat orange-red symbol telling me this is the case on the packet, my glasses, a full cupboard, magazines, internet access. And Lucozade, of course, never forgetting the Lucozade. Whatever did happen to the old glass bottles wrapped in red plastic?