The 3rd of February. Ack. Awake at half five. Downstairs at half seven. Spent my day staring at screen, except for when I went to the dentist and hygienist. I went to the sweet shop straight after, and the irony is not lost on me.

I made some sugar cookies from the Hummingbird Bakery book this afternoon, and decorated them during Hollyoaks. They are of kitties, shoes and teapots, although some look a bit deformed. They taste good though.

Oscar is better today. He's eaten turkey from a packet, just no cat food. Stupid picky cat.

The 4th of February.

I have felt really quite shit in general all day. I've been awake since half past five again, feeling like I'm developing a cough (I still am unsure but I'm having to clear my throat a lot more than usual and last time that happened, I ended up with RSV and I had the horrendous ribavirin nebuliser) and I'm just exhausted.

Joely rang me to ask if it was okay to pass my phone number on to the journalist who spoke to This Morning for them, which of course it is. They'll be on it tomorrow! How very exciting. Apparently this lady thinks I may have to speak to a women's weekly first, which I would not relish, considering last time, they got most of the facts wrong and made it all about my anorexia, which although important, is not the life-threatening issue. Now things are even more complicated, I can't imagine trying to translate it to them again. I swore I wouldn't let someone who didn't fully understand tell my story again.

Becky came round after school and we had a lengthy rant about Michael Gove. Next year, she has to teach her Year 5 class the Stone Age for a whole term. Fifteen weeks. It is insane; how that can be deemed relevant is beyond me.

Also, I noticed I have 1000 Twitter followers today. So that's fun.