Some days you just have to admit defeat, climb into bed and doze away a head cold. Soldiering on isn't necessarily good for you. I know because I'm a stoic. You just about have to 'break' my legs before I'll give in, and even if I do I become wracked with guilt about what I'm not doing - whether it's planning lessons, working on a new project, paying bills or folding the washing; or even more pathetically, that i might be causing more work for someone else. This week I gave in. I stayed in bed, just for one day. For many this is no big deal, but for me it is. My head cold wouldn't let me get up anyway. So I dozed, with one hand clutching a fist full of tissues, the other on automatic reach for a sip of water. There's a healing space somewhere in that sleepy fog. With the blanket over my eyes I entered a subterranean world where the 'things to do' list was forbidden. Every time my consciousness rose to the surface and I mentally thrashed about as I thought of something i should be doing, I was scolded. The head cold was in charge. The head cold was my mother telling me I didn't have to go to school and could just stay in bed. The head cold was my partner (an excellent nurse) who told me I do too much and he could see this coming a mile away. Why was the head cold never me? Back down in the subterranean world, visions of things on the 'to do' list were allowed to swirl. I noticed that something very significant was missing. Where was writing? Was it really not on my list of things I should be doing? So that's what's wrong with me, I realised as I broke the surface of semi-sleep. I blew my chaffed nose, had a long drink of water, and laid back down for some true healing. Thanks head cold.