We seem to have been blessed with the eternal household cold early this year. Coughing is the soundtrack of the house right now. I've been coughing for three weeks now, which is honestly starting to get a bit boring, because I can't do much physical if I want to be able to breathe at the end of it. It's not so bad, I suppose, as long as I don't move, or talk. Or lie down. At work, I've been very tempted to put out a sign labeling myself as a living history exhibit of an authentic Victorian Consumptive.
I suppose I would have to stop using the computer if I wanted to preserve the illusion of historical accuracy though. And maybe grab a red marker from the children's section to put some bloodstains on a handkerchief.