Pastel skies, salty air and a healing feeling
Healing feeling anyone?
Okay, it’s not so bad … now. At least my leg didn’t fall off.
Anyone who lent a sympathetic ear to my man-flu piece knows what happened. I’ve been suffering (nobly, in spite of wildly distorted man-flu assertions). I’ve endured with barely a tear for over ten days and there has been sympathy. Could there have been more? Maybe my weekend blog readers ooze sympathy from every pore.
Who said the Wuss-word again? It’s all about tender loving concern.
TLC or no TLC that is the question
What’s the point of man-flu if not to garner sympathy? It stand to reason, one must set out one’s stall for positive psychological stroking. There’s hardly any going about these days.
I have to report that in my case I garnered attention but not too much sympathy … but enough reassuring commiseration fell my way and I feel Lo—at least liked a bit.
Now my stoic suffering looks like passing unlike, I’m glad to say, me.
Misery going … won’t be missed
Even bad things come to an end. And a destination is in sight. Okay, there are a few hurdles ahead. When I think of the pain and suffering others put up with I can’t help thinking:
There but for the grace of God go I … man-flu notwithstanding
I’m lucky, recovery beckons like the pastel skies tonight.
Take a shot
I stood out back scarcely two and a half hours ago. The sky soothed in a way only such gentle tints and colours can. There I stood outside on the chilling grass, risking all for a shot of magnificent twilight. Can there ever be a such perfect counter for man-flu-non-sympathy? Unlikely.
Take a shot? I wish I could however I’m forbidden until Sunday evening sometime. Can you credit it, after all my suffering and the assertions of man-flu. I can’t even partake of uisge beatha (the water of life).
Stoic to the end
What will I do when I’m better?
Bye. Sympathetic remarks, statements or blown kisses most welcome.
© Mac Logan