The Doctors have no idea what is wrong. God bless the NHS.

Tonight is my first date with The Musician. We’re going out for dinner and drinks. I’m incredibly excited and have purchased a new dress for the occasion; a pretty woollen thing that should show off my legs and hide my slightly bloated stomach that is the direct result of too much champagne last night and far too many hobnobs this afternoon.

We have already had an argument about the whole thing, which is promising – I told him he had to choose where we go weeks before hand but he has today decided that I will choose. Which is just not on. I told him to choose so that he could feel a bit more masculine about the event: after all I’m going to be the one paying. And for that matter – is it a date if I’m paying? I’m not sure.

But I do know I’m excited nevertheless. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday morning, which has been a bit too long I feel. But all this No Sex because of my period is excruciatingly frustrating. Time to get out the chess board again.

Have wonderful weekends.