Eeeeerrrhghgghhhhhhhhh

Ergh. Lying in bed. Feel a bit like I have about ten elephants sat on each of my extremities and sloths hanging off my eyelids. Should really stop doing so much. I have slowly but surely destroyed my body this week, now it's 22:32 on the Sunday and by christ am I an idiot. No sympathy is required for any of the medical complaints in this post- they are entirely self inflicted. I know full well that doing anything fun= pain pain pain. I don't understand how I can feel so tired and not be in a coma.

But yeah, the Derbyshire homie crew are back from uni and they're all like "let's make sexytimes biatch" and I'm like "sure thang ho" (because Derbyshire is just SO gangsta) so we go down and hang in the mash up park and knock back some beers in da Crown. Fuckinghell, I sound like David Cameron trying to communicate with the youth of today. If only I spoke hip hop emo (whatever they are), I could ask these young lads to pull their bloody trousers up.

The rib is being a bit of a party pooper as it proves a severe hinderance to such activities as hugging and breathing. I'm sure it didn't help at golf either, but that was back in the day I thought I was just pulling muscles that only mini-golfers pull. Excessive drinking (I drunk more on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday than I have in the whole of having leukaemia- not sure if that's a success or just a bit dim- as per usual, don't tell Snowdon. Yeah, we cured her, but she drunk two litres of purple fizzy vodka crap and fell down a drain.). Crown on a Wednesday makes merriment. So it does, m'lady. Thurday proved to be most erotic- watching my rather divine looking boyfriend play Starcraft 2 was rather more sexiness than my brain can handle at once. And Friday was the birthday of a beautiful lady I know- A Newcastle Brown may have slipped down my throat. Ack I sound like Craig David, more of my gangsta breakkking out there. What on Earth have I been drinking this evening? I'm sure it was only GRAPE JUICE.

I met this girl on Monday (I actually did meet my boyfriend on the Monday- spooky or what folks)
took her for a drink on Tuesday (in hospital)
we were making love by Wednesday (in hospital agaiinnn- is that even legal Mr David?)
and on Thursday & Friday (she drunk too much) & Saturday (she arranged stamps) we chilled on Sunday (and mad a blog post)

Ah, 90s has beens express the madness of my week perfectly.

In hospital on Tuesday, not for anything haemoish, but for my slightly-better-now-dodgy-eye. Don't want to go to my next haemotology appointment- Imran's leaving and I'm not sure I can face funny blood without him and his general confusion whenever I speak. A lot of doctors seem to get it. Possibly because I say stuff in a cloud of mumbles and shouts and clouds and faries and i's quite hard to get anything reasonable out of me gob. To be honest though, not even I have a bloody clue what I'm talking about, so I suppose their own hope is to hope I just leave the examination room as quickly and quietly as possible.

What the bloddyhell was this post about? I don't even know where I am. Being tired> drugs perhapsssss. SZSZSZSZSZ I soundszcz like a Polish place I rather love. Erggghhhhh, I sound like Marc with a hangover. Terrible.

Going to f wombling bed. Have moar dreams about finally being on Embarassing Bodies. WHY IS LEUKAEMIA NOT EMBARASSING? Fucking-hell. Sorry for all the swearing by the way- real words break down when your haemoglobin is below 10. FACT.

Con-stan-stop-me-legs-ze.

xXxXxXx

P.s Purple is not a healthy colour. Just a warning.