One of my cats, Blueberry, went missing yesterday and he turned up this morning with blood all over his face. He must have been knocked down and was hiding in the bushes feeling poorly until I went around the garden calling him this morning. I rushed him into the vet, of course. I must have been in the vet every week for a month, with one thing and another. I am sick of having to go there. My pets are certainly having a hard time of it at the moment.
I'm not feeling very well either. I had to give up writing yesterday at 4pm and go to bed. I felt a little better this morning, but still not great.
What with feeling ill and worrying about Blueberry, I don't feel in good form for a morning's writing, and I have a lot of words to do to finish by this afternoon. Depressed doesn't begin to cover how I feel at the moment.