Another tossy turny sweaty night. My lungs are red-raw from coughing, but my trusty Olbus Pastilles and Exputex combo are helping to soothe it. Helping.

I’m in bed again today. Though I may get up a little earlier than yesterday. If I do get up earlier I haven’t a notion what I’ll do with myself. I’m not interested in the TV at all at the moment, and I can’t seem to put my hand on a book that’s really grabbing me. I’m reading a lovely little thing about cats, ‘The Moon Cottage Cats’, but I need something meatier too, and frankly, I feel like I’m cheating on John and Christy reading someone else’s cat stories (!).

You know, I just heard something that irritates the crap out of me. I’m listening to RTE radio, Ireland’s national radio station, and there’s some woman poet being interviewed by Pat Kenny. She’s just after reading a bit of a poem, and she used that voice, that stupid voice people use when they’re reading out poetry mid interview, that horrible, wistful, overly stressed, over emotional, littered with dramatic pauses, fake, shite, crappy bloody voice, dripping with sincerity and earnest emotional longing and breathlessness. Oh shut up. Pat, when she’d finished her husky intoning, said something along the lines of ‘beautiful, wonderful poem’. Wow Pat, that’s some fantastic insight and measured thoughtful reaction. Why not pet her on the head the next time and say ‘verrrry goooood’.

I’m not in bad humour really, honestly. A little acidic, maybe. Too much Bertie crap on the radio too. I shouldn’t listen to the radio, it invariably gets up my snot on some level or another.

Oh dear lord it’s twelve in the afternoon. That morning flew in. I’ve been writing this far too long considering how short it is. Anyway, question of the day, what book should I add to my collection, something recent or a classic, whatever – what do you think I should read next?