Paracetamoxyfrusebendroneomycin

I ought to be feeling fairly miserable. Instead, I've actually been feeling rather chipper lately. If you've read the meandering rants and litany of complaints that seem to make up so much of this blog, you might think that this state of mind is somewhat unusual for me; and frankly you'd probably be right.


At the minute I have a throat infection (lovely, eh?), which has made eating, talking and at some times breathing painful for over a week. Today the doctors on campus prescribed me antibiotics*, meaning I will be dosed to the eyeballs with penicillin for the next ten days, hopefully putting an end to the throat problems I've experienced over the last five years or so. 
I still have no idea what I'm doing after University (although thankfully I've a year to sort that one out), the casting assignment I'm writing now isn't going amazingly, and to cap it all I am seriously considering scrapping three pages of conclusion in my third year project and starting the section from scratch. I have no right, in short, to be a happy bunny; at least not by my usual standards.


And yet.


The sun has been shining magnificently for well over a week now. Despite some part of my subconscious telling me that we'll pay for it in hosepipe bans and such later on, the rest of my subconscious seems to have wrestled it into a side room, locked the door and gone sunbathing. My revision (based in the unusually quiet library) has gone really well, and I've been working with some friends there so I haven't gone spare from lack of genuine social interaction. I recently found that the trashy military science fiction novels by an author I recently started reading are available for free online (note - I will deny all knowledge of these books if questioned on the record. Don't tell anyone). The other day, my housemate with the expressive eyebrows and I bought a barbecue and had some friends over for dinner. Then the next day we had flame grilled dry marinaded steak. We fixed the fridge, the hot water system and a saucepan. I am well stocked with weetabix.


When stuff goes wrong, I seem to find it hysterically funny. My box of testing samples for the project (which is 25% of my mark this year) failed to show up after the lab it was in was transferred into a new building. I had a final look for it yesterday, then left the building giggling like an eight year old. I got on the wrong train in Euston last week and took a small diversion to Harrow, earning myself odd looks from fellow passengers for laughing silently to myself as I took my bag to the door. I ordered a package online and sent it to London rather than Coventry. When the nurse told me that I needed antibiotics today, I gave what Wodehouse might have described as a carefree chortle, snatched up the prescription in delight and bounded out the door with a cheerful farewell.


Today was a Thursday, and I had a relatively good day. That doesn't happen to me - I rather subscribe to the Arthur Dent perspective as far as they're concerned.


All in all, I seem to have been remarkable positive in the last week. Either the weather has wrought some sea-change in my moods, or I've been delirious for a week, and haven't noticed it. 


Long may it last. Toodle pip.


- Coventry, March 2012


*For the few readers I have with a medical interest, I'm on 2 x 250mg of penicillin, four times per day, as an alternative to some very powerful concoction that would cost the NHS upwards of £400 for the ten day course. The reason that was considered is that there is a slim possibility that I will be hideously allergic to the penicillin. The health centre staff have been massively helpful, professional and friendly, especially when I was trying to book an appointment on the train up to Coventry and my signal kept dying. Wonderful thing, the NHS. For now, anyway...
When I told my housemate with the expansive forehead adornments my dosage the aforementioned supercillia shot into his hairline in surprise and he swore, then burst out laughing. It did not fill me with confidence.