The works have been slowly gumming up for the last week or so. Everyone I work with has been off sick for up to a week with some sort of stinking flu. Half the family has been down with it too. I am the only one trundling along without being laid out by atrocious headaches and other nasty symptoms. The cube farm that I work in sounds like a lung cancer ward, with people hacking up bits of insides on a regular basis. I also sit close enough to the toilets to be able to hear people snargling away in there for a minute or so as they attempt to dislodge and particularly nasty lump of phlegm.
All I've had is a slightly blocked nose and a greasy coating on the back of the throat - although less wind gets up the nose each day as it blocks up more and more, and it feels like a wallpaperer has put another coat of glue on the tonsils each night.
I hacked a few bits up at the lights this morning - when they hit the road, they didn't land and stick like small pavement oysters. Instead, they bounced - and bounced several times, finishing up about a foot from the starting point.
That can't be a good sign. Spitting out marbles instead of goo.