Tired and a bit shitty
06.08.06, 10:19 pm

Still casa Manchester - not going back until tomorrow night now, as the cat's got to go back to the vet tomorrow to get his stitches out. Just took my sister to the airport and did the usual waving off spiel. Do wish she could have stayed for a lot longer, but then it�s always that way. Kind�ve feel like going to bed now, despite it being reat early, but Ciaran�s semi-girlfriend is still here and that�d probably be really antisocial. Looks like I�m stuck downstairs for at least another hour watching Newsnight or whatever.

So, party of the century last night. It actually all went pretty well� there was probably about fifteen of us all together, mostly my dad�s work friends, and we all sat outside on mismatched chairs. The black cat totally milked the sympathy card with his funnel, pretending to walk into things and getting it the wrong way round and everything.. Inevitably, with the lot of them being careers advisor people, I got suckered into a conversation about my current job success, or point blank lack of. Unfortunately I was pretty drunk by that point, and so rambled on even more so than I usually do (I talk too much as it is anyway, but when I�m drunk it just gets ridiculous). I think I said the phrase �I�m sure something�ll turn up eventually� about 900 times, along with �It�s just a case of keep trying�. Fortunately my dad�s friend was as drunk as I was, and so my reputation as the quite clever younger daughter probably remains intact.

But yeah, it was a really good night, and my dad�s all smug today because everyone was very impressed with the garden. Ooh, and I proposed a toast and got to do the whole spoon wineglass thing and everything (�I�d like to propose a toast as it�s my dad�s birthday on Monday. I�m not quite sure how old he is� fifty-something-or-other� but anyway, happy birthday, Dad!�) At the risk of sounding like a naffo Hallmark card, it was fantastic just to sit there and watch him chatting with his friends and laughing like he used to, before everything got seriously fucked up. Despite our differences and arguments, I respect him so much for carrying on with life and not just giving up. I know I�m still damaged goods but I don�t think he is anymore, and that�s fantastic.

Only got a few hours sleep last night due to the following stupid tale. After going to bed at about 2, I woke up at half three dying of thirst, and when I got up realised that I didn�t feel too great. Not hungover great, just not great in general. I went downstairs to get some water, dressed only in a towel I�d wrapped round myself, and in the kitchen had the mother of all dizzy spells. The only reason I didn�t pass out was because I simply refused to when I was dressed only in a towel, and risk having Ciaran come home from town with his girlfriend to find me sprawled out naked on the kitchen floor. Anyway, I got some water, headed upstairs again after having another crazy dizzy spell, and then sat in bed drinking the water. And then I decided to go to sleep, and because I currently have fuck all coordination managed to knock my pint of water all over my bed. So I had to go downstairs and sleep on the sofa. With the black cat. And the funnel. My dad decided to clump downstairs at half eight, and by this point I gave up and got up, because I�d just had a dream about Lea from Big Brother and that sort of thing just shouldn�t be allowed. God, I can�t wait to go to sleep, especially as my bed�s finally dried out and we�re once more on speaking terms.

You know what? I feel like total shit. I also look like total shit; I�m pretty sure you have to be officially DEAD to be this pale. I can�t be flippant anymore, or just plain ignore it; the bad week I had with the MI has turned into a bad fortnight, and it�s time to just accept that I�ve gotten worse and that it�s shit and I hate it. And Jesus, I�ve just worked out how long I�ve had the MI and we�re now up to three and a half months, or 14 weeks. No wonder I�m completely sick to the back teeth of it and wish it�d fuck the hell off.

[Edit] I just cut the last paragraph that I wrote, because no one should have to read crap like that. Suffice to say that I'm taking a bit of an emotional beating with the MI, only nobody around me knows about it because I haven't told them. Only you lot know. I don't want to be the friend who's always moaning on about a minor ailment, and I definately don't want to turn into the boring friend.

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