Wednesday 29 April 1987

…Today I still feel deadly ill.
My sore throat, my terrible cough – nothing seems to clear.
I keep going all cold and shivery.
To add to all these matters, I think I am going flat-footed.
Apparently the nurse who I had the medical with two months ago said she
thought she could detect signs of flat-footedness.
THAT’S ALL I NEED.
Despite all this I did PE and went to the leisure centre.
Do you remember the last time we had PE – the “sour taste in the mouth” remark?
Well today I got a pain in my head.
A ball was thrown at me at a speed of 120mph.
The whole day was horrible…

I can detect traces of an adolescent-esque “woe is me” strain creeping in here. Nobody wants that. But then I had been hit in the face with a volleyball, having earlier learned that I might have flat feet. And I was clearly still irked by that stupid outburst from my teacher at the end of the previous term.

Harbouring grudges about something that happened weeks ago? That’s definitely adolescent-esque. Oh dear.

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