On the train this morning I had what I will call a Cold Attack where my cold practically attacked me. There I was immersed in my book when it quite suddenly grabbed me by my throat and throttled me until I was swimming in my own tears and coughing up my own lungs. Not a great look; everyone near me took a visible step back lest they catch whatever lurgies I may be harbouring.
I got off the train at the next stop and bought myself a coffee at the delightful Bertie and Boo in Balham. Sadly I spilt some of it on the train ride home. Happily none of it spilt on my new white dress.
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