One of the most frustrating symptoms that I'm sick is I get grumpy. Very grumpy, which makes me not very good company at all. It's a good thing I live alone (well, apart from the cat who seems to have decided to make himself scarce today. Smart cat.)
I think I'm so used to racing through life at top speed with several plans, back up plans and mad schemes on the boil that when I'm forced to slow down I can't quite comprehend it. You'd think by the age of 40 I would have figured out that sometimes you just have to throw your plans out the window, take to your bed with a pile of good books, CDs and some knitting, wait til you feel human again and sort stuff out from there.