Over a week, and the virus is winning, though I feel well enough to get up today (an improvement over the rest of the week). Whether it's post viral blues, or the demons warming up for the Festive Season (I'm not good at Christmas), I find myself in a slump of self pity. My work is poor. Nobody likes it. I could go on whining for an eternity. Instead, I'm going back to sleep. Nothing like a good nap to get rid of the blues. And then I'm going to get out my sketchbook and draw. Nothing like starting from scratch to cheer you up. Or that's what I hope, anyway. And then, when I'm cheered up suitably, I'm going to plan my year. I have enough work committed here and there to keep me out of mischief for the next couple of years, books, exhibits, this and that... all I need to do now is to convince my sad self that it's time to get on with it, or at least to organise it while I'm not well enough to get anything done. And to remember that these periods come and go. It may be the annual pre-Christmas depression; it may not. Either way, whatever it is, it'll pass and I'll survive. My mantra for bad days is from Julian of Norwich; 'All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing shall be well'. She was a smart cookie. And she was right. Hold that thought!