the prettiest star

Laugh now, but one day we'll be in charge.

Monday, March 14

I'm going to have a NB if something is not done soon.

Yesterday was quite traumatic in quite a pathetic, girly way. Rach phoned me in the small hours of the morning, in tears as her bikini also no longer fits. I spent two hours telling her it's not that big a deal (I need to tell this to myself) and a further hour talking about how much men suck. It was all very Sweet Valley High. I told her all about my trip to Manchester, including the hellish car journey- I was so lost and stressed out that my friends forced me to stop for a little cry and a ciggie, I don't smoke, but god that stuff calmed me down. By the time we got there we were all pale and shaking. I think everyone has gone a bit crazy this week.

It reminded me of sixth form, where they used to make us drive to school trips (that’s how shit my school was) and they were always in the most obscure places. The driver always ended up stressed and in tears, pulled up on the motorway with a ciggie, regardless of whether they smoked or not. Once we had to make our way to Sheffield, and my friend had a bit of a NB and decided she couldn’t take any more. We had to hitch, but unfortunately ended up in Barnsley. We had all got to know Britain’s motorways very well by the time we left sixth form.

The driving isn’t what’s getting me though. Being ill for so long has been so frustrating, I've just been sitting around my flat, painting my nails, reading magazines and finding ways to avoid work. I've turned into my Dad's girlfriend. My friends are convinced I'm contagious, and so keep their distance. The only people that call me are Ali, Rach, and my Mum, who all live in Nottingham.

I was long due for some sort of NB. I'm one of those people who will be fine for months, but every now and then just go a bit crazy, I have a Bridget Jones moment, where I need to put my pyjamas on, and drink wine, and bitch with my friends about how sucky everything is. I’m seeing the doctor again today, and if they don’t find out what is wrong with me, I’m going to scream. I’ve been ill for six weeks. That’s 42 days! I have had swollen tonsils, headaches, and a complete lack of motivation and concentration for six weeks! This will be the end of me if someone doesn’t sort me out soon.

I think yesterday managed to break me.