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So I'm still sick and I'm still not fucking happy about it. Duh. Mostly because I've done just as much work as I would in a normal week but everyone thinks I'm slacking off. I mean, slacking off for a good reason, but still slacking off, y'know?

Partnered with that is the fact that I haven't slept very well for a few days. Unfortunately for the past three nights I've taken to sleeping sitting sort of upright so I don't choke on the mucus trickling from my nose down my throat. This doesn't stop me from waking up suddenly to a coughing fit.

At the moment it's down to a growly level of throat-clearing so I hope tonight will be the night I work it out and get a good night's Zs.

Boff has been completely sweet to me the entire time. He stayed over on Thursday night and when he realised I still wasn't feeling well he texted my boss that I wouldn't be in and then went out in the pouring rain to the pharmacy to buy me drugs. He went to work and then came back and spent another night with me although I kept him up all night in all the wrong ways by coughing at irregular intervals throughout.

He still hasn't moved in; some of his stuff is here, including his computer and some books, but he's taking an awfully long time to sort through his other stuff. It has been a good six weeks—I wonder what he is telling his landlord. In the meantime, I have been selling some of my furniture via Gumtree or giving it away via Freecyle to make room.

We celebrate our one-year anniversary on Saturday. I took hours to compile a crossword (a proper one, all diagonally symmetrical and everything) and have booked a banquet at Cafe Ish on Saturday evening. It was a Spreets deal, so I hope they are good to us (“You need to make sure they’re treated like a first class customer, not a second class coupon holder”), although I have been there several times and they are genuinely nice people.

Weird stuff is happening at work and it's making me reconsider leaving again. Not because things are bad, just because things fit less and less with what I want to do with myself. The first thing that happened was that we outsourced our ad sales because apparently we've been losing money off our flagship publication for some months because management didn't have the heart to fire a much-loved but not very good salesperson (who left on her own accord last month).

Then, sort of as a result of these money troubles, one of the designers was made redundant a few weeks ago. But in a twist, one of the other designers recently said she wanted to leave, which gives the redundant designer a chance to come back in (I think she will but she will confirm later this week).

Anyway, this Wednesday is my annual review. I want to ask for a pay rise because I've worked hard on this new website which, let's face it, they couldn't have without me. This is at some cost to my personal life: I mean, I went part-time so I could do more writing (freelance and novel-writing) but it turns out that all my headspace is now devoted to learning website things. Yes, I don't deny that it's a handy skill to have, but it's not where I want to be right now; I want to be honing my writing skills.

Skippy says the worse thing that could happen is they say 'no', which is true, but I'm one of those people who see that the business is in some difficulty and I don't want to take more than my 'fair share', whatever that is. Then again, I can't continue living like this! Without some form of compensation, or recognition for what it costs me, that is.

The other thing is that although I believe I can find another role somewhere, or even make it freelance, I am gearing up for this non-fiction volunteer book project and don't want to have to devote time and headspace to a new role if that's about to happen. It's everywhere at the moment.

AND THEN there's the case of the work trip to Melbourne! In August every year one of our clients has a trade fair and about half the staff go down to do photography, meet with the client's members and write stories about members etc. My MD has decided that as a parting gift to the leaving designer (who has been with the company almost 5 years, mind) he's going to fly everyone down there for her farewell dinner. So there's money there somewhere.

Ack. Anyway, the next week for me will be about recovering from this dreadful whatever it is I have, sorting out my domestic situation and then trying to convince the uppers that they want to give me more money.