(I am going to pretend to be a hypochondriac for one blogpost.)
The agonies I was compelled to endure last night are simply unbelievable - simply unbelievable! My eyes were so dreadfully heavy, and even when I closed them quite tightly they would not be relieved. And my throat! It had a tickle in it. I drank quarts of water, swallowed convulsively, and cleared my throat, but it also would not be relieved.
I coughed and sneezed for much of the night, but did my sister hear? No. She slept soundly and peacefully, the discomfort I was experiencing was completely foreign to her.
I am reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. I had planned on reading over 200 pages this weekend, but I am not certain that I will feel well enough. After I am done with that, I have a large number of other library books that need to be read before three weeks is up. Oh! I feel quite weak at the mere thought!
Tomorrow night my sisters and I will be going to the theatre to see Little Women, the musical. It sounds interesting, I dare say, but I do hope that none of the actors will point to something behind the audience, as if there were something there! I nearly always turn in my seat to see what they are looking at, and when I discover that there is nothing there, my nerves are considerably shaken, and I feel most disagreeably embarassed. I also fear that we will not get back till after 11, and that will not be good for my health. No, not at all.
(Note: I did not cough for most of last night, but I have been getting a tickle in my throat, and I've been slightly stuffy. My sister is sort of sick, though, so these ailments are not foreign to her. ;) Ah, that was kind of fun. Though I don't really believe that all hypochondriacs talk like they just stepped out of a Jane Austen novel.)