Save me from myself

Illness does odd things to one's mental stability me thinks. Although I am now feeling much better, I have spent the last week in some odd over sentimental state of being. Yesterday I told an editor who I have worked with for the past couple of years that I was "proud" of his accomplishments. He works at a lads mag, nuf said. Earlier this week I called my friend in the US who I usually spend xmas with just to tell her I love her. Erm, luckily she wasn't home. It's not right I tell you. The headaches, the chills, the fever; those I can handle. The squishy, sappy, touchy feely BS on the other hand, THAT is enough to make me nauseous.

In other news, the days are narrowing for our trip to the family's for xmas. I have stayed away from writing about this, because quite frankly I am absolutely terrified. CB and I are going to his parents for a week for Christmas. Don't get me wrong, I am very excited about spending Christmas with CB and am over the moon that his family is welcoming me with open arms. None of that, however, can diminish the fear that has washed over me at the prospect of spending a week with someone else's family. My aunt gasped when I told her and then aptly said, "does he realise you haven't even spent a week with your own family since you were about 10?" Yep, that's the vote of confidence I got. Not to brag, but I am great with parents, that's a fact. CB has assured me to the best of his ability that all will be fine and that his family will adore me. A week just seems like a lot of time for them to uncover the less then perfect aspects of GirlFriday. The aspects that their son adores because he is brainwashed by the mist of love. Well, the mist of love or the mental stupor that comes with being ill.