Have been totally ill all week, big with the coughing and the spluttering and so low on the activity front, doing not much more than blow nose through boxes of tissues and having vivid dreams brought on by Lemsip Max Strength.

Really they're not kidding about the max bit, I swear it's just more than the lemony goodness they put into that stuff. It's weird I don't dream much, but when I do I have distinct two dreams, or variations there of. The first always ends with me biting down really hard and all my teeth crumble, which obviously means something or other that has nothing to do with teeth (which just so you know as of December check up are superfine and all still there), but really let's not go there just now.

The other one I have is where I am about to sit this exam. At first I have loads of time to write my paper and then no time with just 15 minutes on the clock and not a word have I written. Last time I had this one, in the dream I was oddly desperate to go to the loo, but it was miles away and I couldn't find it and, of course, when I got back there was nothing left on the clock.

Last night I think was some kind of variation on the above. I was back at school and meant to be playing rugby. I was on my way to the game, but when I got to the changing rooms I didn't have my kit or my boots. I go back to look for my kit, which I think it is in my locker, but when I get there it's empty and I know that I am going to miss my change to get mangled on the playing fields of Hertfordshire. This must have been around the time when I still thought flinging myself at people's legs in an effort to bring them down was a great idea. Rather than dangerous and stupid and best left to people with a more natural talent in the whole flinging and downing arena. I'm happy to write the programme.

Anyway, I rush back to the changing rooms thinking I can borrow some boots and stuff and on the way I meet this guy on the stairs who I used to go to school with. That's weird I'm thinking as despite in the dream I am my 12 year-old rugby playing self he appears his thirties and dressed smartly in a pinstriped suit, looking, I guess, pretty much as he might now, but I still recognise him straight off.

We sort of stop for a moment and I then rush on in a vain kitless effort to make the match. I haven't actually seen Darren – as it was him – in about ten years. No idea what he's doing in my dreams or otherwise, like I said blame it on Lemsip Max Strength.

Oh and the other thing I did, today anyway, was watch 'Before Sunrise' and 'Before Sunset' back to back on my laptop in bed. It's the kind of thing you can only do when half conscious and ill. I really love those two films, have seen them both before, but never one after the other.

There are so many good lines peppered throughout, today among others I kind of liked this:

"Yeah, hang on, hang on. It's a, it's a totally scattered thought. It...which is kind of why it makes sense."