Having re-read my entries recently, I realise how monotonous and dull they probably are. I apologise, but by the end of every day, I am incapable of really wanting to write a lot or anything entertaining because my mouth is causing me such misery. So apologies. The 28th of November.

Woke up early this morning, possibly due to steroids. I forgot about that. Well hopefully I won't be on them too long and it won't last.

Sarah Degg came round this morning with the food show tickets and we ended up all gassing away for an hour or so but oh well! It was nice; haven't seen her for ages.

When she left, Mommy and Daddy went to Tesco and Homebase and I went to wash my hair, then I had to wait for them to return before I ate my lunch as we had no soft breadbuns. Then I repainted some nails, while we caught up on Masterchef, then Mommy went to see Grandma.

Sophie came round with some home-made chicken soup and butterscotch Angel Delight, bless her. We had some chats about cats and I showed her photos from Paris. My tongue really hurts from talking now - I need to rest it before James Acaster tonight because (I am hoping) it will be vastly amusing and I'd rather not be in pain.

Christine came home tonight!

The 29th of November.

It is days like this that makes me hate my body with a fierce passion that is unusual, even for me. James Acaster last night was alright, but I did not love his support act and by the end, I'd run out of water and my mouth was agony. The same thing happened today - I couldn't really eat a thing at the food show. A man forced some crispy chocolate upon me which I ate, then immediately wanted to cry.

We saw lovely Dr. Tim and we chatted about Paris while buying many macarons. I came home with only five brownies (unlike the eleven I bought last year), but if I'm ever going to eat them is a serious question. I am in such constant pain right now, and I don't know how to alleviate it. Tramadol wouldn't work, I'm not allowed ibuprofen...I don't know what to do.

Tonight I'm just sitting in the living room under a blanket and feeling the urge to weep, but not doing so because it would hurt even more.