Is It Next Week Yet?

I've been unconscious since the weekend. My small cold turned nasty.

Saturday I spent the afternoon in bed watching the Wales V South Africa rugby match. I managed to get up at half-time and say hello to two sets of aunts and uncles (from my mother's side) who'd popped round. They don't just "pop round" very often. They live in England, we live in Wales. For some reason they never come to see us, whereas I know a lot of them do pop in on my uncle who lives ten minutes away.

The evening was spent on the sofa. Mammy got really weird - Post Sibling Visit Syndrome - and started saying some really messed up things. For some reason I found myself defending aunts and uncles I barely even know. Well, she was saying some weird stuff. As always, she took offence to what I said, and I was deemed the anti-Christ and that was that - she hasn't spoken to me since. Although she has been making up lies about me picking on one of the dogs - which is just insane cos I adore all the dogs. Her and my younger sister had a good old bitch. Younger sister stupidly told Jemma about it, who of course told me. I confronted Mammy about it; she was left speechless cos obviously her lie had been presented to her face. I don't think we've said more than two words to each other since. Ahh family dramas.

Of course, she had to pick now to have her funny five minutes, didn't she? I mean, I'm quite clearly ill as ill can be - and there she is picking fights! I haven't had the energy to fight back, hence the no talking.

My illness has got progressively worse. I didn't sleep at all Monday night and so spent Tuesday (yesterday) in a state of semi-consciousness. I sent Ray home at 9pm and crawled into bed with a bowl of Vicks and a towel over my head. I don't know whether it was just the Vicks but I slept pretty much right through the night. I'm feeling almost human again today.

It's my younger sister's birthday tomorrow, so if I don't blog again: Happy Birthday, Amber. She's going to be nineteen. Which is super weird cos she only seems about sixteen. I'm glad I'm feeling a bit better today cos I've got to get to a shop and buy her a card. I've had her present here for ages but now I've just got to summon up the energy to get to a shop.

I hate being ill. This week truly has been the worst week of 2007. I've not only been ill, been arguing with my parents, been ostrasised by them, but I also had some super shitty news about the something I didn't want to mention in one of the earlier posts. Yes, sounds cryptic, I know, but I'd just rather not talk about it. So all in all this week has sucked.

Labels: amber, arguing, birthday, daddy, family, illness, jem, mammy, ray, rugby

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