Here's the good news. There is officially nothing swine-ish about me: I have been given the all clear on the H1N1 front.
The bad news is that I'm still sick but, as always, I shall shoulder it with stoic determination (and possibly a minimum of whining) and rise to the challenge of the school run and incessant demands for bottom wiping/ dinner/ treats/ homework assistance.
Onwards and upwards.
The other bad news is that Alpha is in the midst of a frenzy of economising which means I'm not allowed to go shopping for fun stuff (I mean, who ever heard of only buying things that you need?), am having to downgrade my mani-pedi sessions from the nice place in the Mercato Mall (replete with marble basins and an embarrassment of Essie polish shades to choose from) to the local hole-in-the-wall (I think they sterilise the equipment adequately, euw, plus their choice of polish comes in a plastic veggie basket and half of them are gunky, boo) and - GASP - no renewal of our beach club membership.
This latter news had me in a proper frenzy. No nice icy-cold pool to dive into to beat the heat? No private beach to frolick on? It's utter madness. Is Alpha trying to drive me crazy? Is this a prelude to divorce? Is it in retaliation for my refusing to let him play golf last weekend? I just don't know what he's playing at.
And what about the children? Think of the poor kiddies, sweating and rosy-cheeked every weekend while their friends are swimming like mermaids in chilled waters. I don't think that adding ice-cubes to their paddling pool is going to cut the mustard, I really don't.
This is a declaration of marital war. There's nothing else for it but to roll up my Marigolds and play hardball. Alpha will be cowering like our recently neutered tomcat when I'm done with him.