Friday: felt ok. Came back from work a bit sore, a bit tired, a bit glad it was the weekend, but nothing out of my ordinary.
Saturday: spent it in bed. A couple of hours propped up on pillows with the lappie, but mostly, snoozing.
Sunday: a bit better than Saturday, but still confined to the upstairs floor of the house. In the evening, a sudden downturn.
Monday: Almost back to my normal. I even fixed my own breakfast.
REALISATION: I'll be going to work today. I feel ripped off of my weekend. There should be rules about having a non-weekend due to sickness.
DISCLAIMER: Yes, I'm complaining about going to work. Rest assured that if I feel awful again later today, or tomorrow, and I have to call in sick, I'll probably complain about NOT going to work.
I bet you're grouchy too when you're this sore.
I will try and post something a bit more thoughtful over the next week.