Pre-Birthday-Surprise-Party-Special.

I have the most beautiful friends.
So my birthday is coming up. Kinda an important one, actually. Milestone being marked, and all that. And yet, after the five-month planning, and four-day party and celebration of last year’s birthday, I sadly had precious little planning energy this year. A get together with all my girls was in order, yes! But half of us have started new jobs. A couple were on holiday, or staying in their Uni places. Complications, complications, complications. My sister and two of my girlfriends kept saying, “What are you going to do? What are you going to plan?” And I found myself saying, “Ohhh, I don’t know. Maybe someone else could plan it this year, I just can’t be bothered to get my head round people’s dates and all that,” with a sadly childish pout on my face. Did I think anyone else would step up to the mark and start making the plans? Course not! It’s a momentous task! If I had not the willpower to work at it, how could I expect someone else to?
July 16th, the earache started. Ow. The amount of messages and commands to get better very soon were gratifying. July 18th, my first ever doctors appointment, my first ear infection, and my very first antibiotics prescription. The hurrahs for drugs and getting-well-ness were pleasing. July 20th, I’m feeling slightly better, and no longer like my head’s going to implode with pain whenever I sit up, and the cheering on of my recovery continued. I felt so loved…
July 21st. A bad day for me. I was tired, grouchy, emotional. Still in some pain. My sister tided my room for me while I was in the shower. My mum kept telling me to just go back to bed to rest instead of moping round the house, pretending I could be helpful with something. The doorbell rings, and mum yells at me to answer it, and I trudge to the door. And there on the doorstep are my sister and three of my girlfriends, dressed to the nines, smiles on their faces and a big bunch of red roses held out in front of them.
Apparently, this had taken a month to plan. To get all my girls together in one place. My illness had meant that the dinner out that was also planned had to be postponed, but we went to my friend’s house where the other girls were waiting, had a picnic in the park on cushions, and spent the rest of the evening and night half-asleep in front of a good many films. A birthday celebration tailored to the unwell. It was beautiful. A pre-birthday surprise party that was full of special <3

Owie.

It's 00:57 on Sunday morning.

I have an earache... Else trust me, I'd be happily snuggled in bed loving every second of my sleeping time. I'm hoping this earache clears itself up before Monday, as I have a trip to John Lewis in Reading with two of my girlfriends in order to buy meters and meters of loverly material to make two beautiful dresses, one Marie Antoinette style and one Alice McGee style, for their respective birthdays. Yes, I shall make the dresses. To make a dress for oneself is one thing, to make a dress for someone else is another. Of course, the multiple fittings that shall be needed are a perfect excuse to spend more time with my two girls. An ulterior motive? Course not..!
Anywho. To be able to function properly on Monday is therefor very necessary. I just had to delete a repetition of the phrase "in order to buy" from my writing above, and the spelling corrections I'm having to make are ridiculous. My brain clearly is not all present and correct. I think I shall have to attempt to shut it down again, despite the screaming pain battering in from my ear. Argh. I shall call down the martyrs of earache mid-dream, and beg for an early release.

Butterfly lost.

A delicate, translucent thing.
It's easier this way.
The reality causes sickness;
a hurt that makes me sob.
She's trapped.
Between the fingers of her lovers.
Against the window;
one, two, three, on and on.
A desperate fluttering against the pane.
Damage done to soft, soft wings.
It hurts but it alleviates.
In that tiny body is a burden;
fear, worry, fear.
And this is my terror:
I cannot cup my hands around her.
Stop her. Carry her to safety.
Small, fragile and broken.
A delicate, translucent thing.
It's easier this way.