I am much better. I cough worst in the mornings, but I'm producing less, and it's less horrible. My voice is hoarse from the coughing. I tried, and I can sing a little, but not too flexibly, not with near enough air for those long runs in the Magnificat. I might try to sing some at rehearsal tonight, but I fear it will start me off coughing again. Surely, surely I will be able to manage it by next week? That's what I want for Xmas, to be able to sing this concert (it's on the 16th). I have friends attending, and I want to be able to sing for them.
I am grumpy, and resentful that being sick impedes the things I want to do. I have been vastly enjoying reading Running Through Corridors: Rob and Toby's Marathon Watch of Doctor Who (Volume 1: The 60s) by Rob Shearman and Toby Hadoke, despite its ridiculously poor proofreading. The worst part is reading how much they like some of the episodes that are lost to us forever except for audio recordings and a few photographs and snippets. I would give quite a lot to see Patrick Troughton's first story.