As much as it pains me to say it, I think I should have held fast and resorted to a simple kiss on the cheek - like I'd been routinely handing out over the past week while M has been wrestling with her cold - when saying goodbye at the airport on Sunday. It can be the only reasonable explanation for why I'm now struggling with a cold of my very own here in London.
No, I'm not being a baby about it. I'm powering through. I'm taking Airborne. I'm wearing a warm jacket. I'm fueling my body with Pret-a-Manger and Capuccinos. I'm getting on with my life.
I just wanted to let you all know that that is what I'm doing.
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