I'm crying. Nearly.
I'm sitting here, with that heavy nose, achy forehead, full eyes, precrying feeling. I'm not doing it yet and I'm not sure if I will, but apparently I'm thinking about it.
Clearly it's because I'm ill.
It is not because there is a programme about pagan handfastings on the tv, and I was robbed of ours.
It is not because AC is at his fathers and I've just looked at the pictures from this morning and been overwhelmed by how much I love that child.
It is not because J is working late and I want him home to snuggle.
It is because I am ill.
and so I am prescribing a cup of tea, and possibly a biscuit or three.