Saturday, 2 June 2007


My hen night was fine. Things went wrong (including me fracturing a piece of bone off my ankle two weeks before so the paintballing had to be cancelled - I've never played football since...), but I was fine for all of them. I enjoyed it. Nothing went seriously wrong, and I cried when one of my sisters left at the end of the weekend because... I don't even know why, really. But the point? I wasn't ill.

Since my friends started getting married? Everything goes wrong on their hen weekends.

A's hen night: half way through the night I come down with a bad combination of hay fever and cold. I get a taxi back to the hotel alone and leave early the next morning because I just want to get home and be able to stay in bed.

AM's hen night: I developed a really bad headache on the way out for the meal. I didn't drink more than one glass of wine all night because I was scared the headache would either a) come back or b) react badly with the painkillers I'd necked in the toilets halfway through the meal because I thought my head would burst.

(K's hen night was the exception that proves the rule. Nothing went wrong, I enjoyed it and I was fine.)

And now, J's hen night, one of my best friends.
  • I've felt grotty for the last two weeks, stomach not right, head never quite free from an ache.
  • I have so much to do in work that I can't even stop thinking about it and panicking now when I have two days not to think about it.
  • I have my first assignment due in for my OU course next Friday and I am less than half way through the previous block (I don't want to get an extension because there is no chance of an extension for the last assignment and I've got lots of busy weekends coming up, so am going to have little if any opportunity to make up for lost time).
  • I have an overnight at Samaritans on Wednesday which will take a huge chunk out of the time I have to deal with the previous two situations.
  • I have a 10k race which I really want to do well in two weeks tomorrow and I haven't run in nearly two weeks which I hate (I get antsy now when I'm in the habit of running and stop).
  • And just to cap it all off, one of my friends, who I worry about at the best of times, has had a recurrence of a potentially life-threatening illness that he had in January which he needs to go to hospital to get sorted, but won't because of his phobia of doctors and medical staff. Last time I had to drop everything, a weekend I couldn't afford to drop everything but had to, to get him to stay in hospital. I went over with D before but have had to leave him there and come home, because I have too much to do.
The house is a frickin' TIP, I can't think about how much I need to do without nearly hyperventilating, and all I want to do tonight is write until I've at least started to catch up with myself and then crawl into bed and cry til I fall asleep, then sleep for at least 11 hours.

But I can't, because J is one of my best friends, and if I cancel now I'll make it all about me, and it's not all about me. It's all about her.

I *am* going to call one of my other friends and let her know all this so that I have someone who can distract her/tell her not to worry if I disappear off to the loos for half an hour and come back with suspiciously red eyes.

Breathe, B. You can do it.

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