Being sick.

I'm ill.
I haven't felt great all week, but yesterday evening I started to feel really bad, and decided to make a mug of hot water with honey and lemon,
and went to bed early, in the hopes that I would wake up this morning refreshed, healthy and ready for uni classes.
The fire alarm went off at 10:30pm, and I could not get back to sleep after that, until after 4am.
I woke up this morning with my head pounding and my chest wheezing.
I dragged myself out of bed and made some more hot-lemon-and-honey-water (which is surprisingly quite nice) and went to the shop on a mission to find medication.  I bet that everyone who passed me never wants to leave their flat ever again, for fear of seeing me like that again.
The shop had no Night Nurse (the most genius medical creation ever), but I still managed to spend £10 on not much more than a tin of soup and a carton of orange juice.

I missed my whole day at uni.  I guess that's normal for students, but not for me.  I worry about what I've missed, and just know that the summer exam questions will be specifically on today's seminars.

I'm pretty gutted; I decided late last night (after some persuasion from my mum, who has been off work sick for almost two months now) to book flights home for next weekend.  I got on to my airline's site and discovered I missed their 70% off sale by five minutes.  Being ill, exhausted and somewhat emotional, I was a bit of a mess when I realised I couldn't afford to get home.  It's okay though, I'm going to get the train to London instead, to meet my best friend who I haven't seen since Christmas.  I've never been to London before; I can guarantee I will get lost before I even get on the train.