The 28th of December. Good sleep. I think the steroid-waking is wearing off, finally I have a lot of sleep to catch up on.

This morning I watched Saturday Kitchen and read the paper. I also booked tickets for Daddy, Christine and I to go and see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty this afternoon at quarter past three.

Until then, we watched a couple of things on the box and had lunch, and I finished Alex. Another book I started but paused the reading of is The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. I'm not sure I'll go back to that right now - it all hits a little bit too close to home right now. Plus at the moment I don't really like the main character; she's kind of annoying.

Walter Mitty was also kind of annoying. I don't know if I just wasn't in the right mood - there was just a bit too much implausibility and little things that irked me. My favourite part was the last half hour when he's back in America and eats a cinnabun. Cinnabuuuun. I don't know. It frustrated me. And Kristen Wiig sang in a British accent which was weird. I liked her jumper though.

A lot of it was filmed in Iceland. I'm so glad I got to go there. It is my favourite place.

The 29th of December.

I woke up angry this morning and I don't know why. I can't blame hormones because they're carefully regulated by patches and tablets. So then I was annoyed because I was annoyed, but a combination of caffeine and Sunday Brunch seemed to placate me.

After Sunday Brunch, I watched The Big Fat Quiz Of The Year which I didn't see the other night 'cause I went to bed, then I had lunch and watched 21 on Channel 5. Oscar decided to come in in the middle of the film and wee behind the Christmas tree, even after I pleaded with him not to. Thankfully, he only urinated on the carpet and not on any of the stuff in the vicinity of the tree.

When the film finished, I sat and read The End of Me and the Rise of Women by Hanna Rosin. It's very America-centric but almost makes you believe that women have already taken over and basically won. I do hope Ms. Ronin realises that this is not the case.

Tonight after dinner, we played Sherlock Cluedo. I won! Becky and James came over mid-game with some macarons that she made (very good! With home-made lemon curd!), but left us to it as it was quite tense at that point. It was Irene Adler in The Tower of London with the lead piping. It was a better ending than last year's QI board game when I won and yelled "HAHA FUCK YOU" at my sister. In a loving way.

I'm going to watch 8 Out of 10 Cats in bed as I want to go to sleep straight after. I need an early night.