The 15th of December.

4.20am. Bloody steroids. So tonight I'm having lorazepam as tomorrow I'm not going anywhere and it doesn't matter if I remember nothing.

Today has been Taid's 90th birthday meal (but I wasn't allowed to write "Good Taid-ings!" in his Christmas card because my parents do not appreciate my comedic genius). We left at half past nine, stopped at Oswestry drive-thru Starbucks, and arrived at The Groes Inn just before one.

I gave him his card that I made, and sat next to Uncle Jeremy. I couldn't hug Aunty Hilary as she has a cold and I do not want that thank you very much. While we ate, we mainly just talked about Paris because he loves it there, and Peter (my cousin) is living there at the moment.

After the meal, we went back to Taid'd house to give him his presents (one of which was a lot of cheeses, so we were just thrilled when he chose a cheeseboard as his pudding at the restaurant and took a doggy bag home) and we swapped gifts with the Hudsons. We didn't see the kitty who got in our car after Nain's funeral, unfortunately.

We got home just after eight, so now we're watching X Factor and eating toasted teacakes.

The 16th of December.

I had lorazepam yesterday, so I am going to write what I remember and we'll see what my brain recalls tomorrow. I got up at about half nine after a much better sleep.

This morning I nearly walked into a toilet door but apart from that, I was not too clumsy. I wrote up an email for Claire from the Observer, and I need to send her some photos to go with it. Tomorrow morning? Hm. I'll find time.

I watched Victoria Coren's Culture Show on P. L. Travers and it was incredibly moving and thought-provoking. It made me want to see Saving Mr. Banks but I might be too late.

This afternoon I have been doing laptop admin which was absolutely riveting, along with all the app-culling I did. I took a break from all the craziness to give my hair a voluminous blow-dry as it is looking flat and now my face is growing, it'll only get worse.