Talking Myself Out Of A Happy Birthday

Update at bottom of post.

A zillion reasons to call the whole thing off

• Its almost that week of the month.
• I am fat.
• I am evil tempered.
• I've had to give up on wearing my smart trousers tonight and opt for the larger-wasted jeans because everything else is cutting me in half.
• They fall down if I stand up,
• The only belt that fits has a pointy buckle and it digs in if I sit down.
• I also dyed my hair today, semi permanent, nat. dark brown, same as last month, except Superdrug were out of stock so I used Boots.
• Its crap.
• This morning I had a silver stripe if I made a central parting. Now its orange, and smelly, and wider than before because the damned ammonia lifted some of last month's colour at the same time.
• It also made my fingertips feel scarily sticky when wet.
• And like they have excema when dry.
• I can't find my eyebrow wax.
• I look like some hairy neanderthal wild woman who can't find her eyebrow wax.
  
• I have never been this fat before in my life.
• I could probably handle it if I could still sit on my ankles, or breathe properly, or not feel like I was walking round in a sumo suit.
• We're going to the Komedia club and I've never been there before.
• I've never been to a comedy thingummy at all before.
• I hate new experiences when someone else has high hopes or expectations based on my reaction. I'd much sooner know whether or not I like something BEFORE my partner is going to sulk for a week if I dont.
• I would have sooner gone to the music event because they are more predictable - no smoke, no other noise, seats facing front etc.
• The comedy tickets are cheaper.
• My inner witch is saying things about that and I am ignoring her with gritted teeth.
• I didnt get any present from him or the kids this morning 'because we are going out instead'. Oh yup, she has things to say there, too.
  
• I have this fear that the Komedia will be packed to the hilt with noisy, derogatory, self-involved 20 and 30-somethings.
• I dont want to spend my night in a schoolyard for brats with car keys and designer handbags and too much money.
  
• I have this fear that its going to reek deliciously of cigarettes and tobacco and I will turn into a craven maniac chewing the foul, beer spattered carpet for want of a smoke before the first turn even gets to the stage.
• I think I have an ulcer from the blood thinners. It would explain why my skin from ribs to belly button is as tight as a medicine ball right now.
• It would also explain why working myself up like this means my throat is burned to a crisp.
  
• I'm more involved in where the Rennies are than where I left my purse.
• If they don't serve coffee at this rate I am going to have to sip one beer, very, very, slowly.
• Part of me just wants to spoil it all right now, to be done with all this acid-making anticipation. What a brat I can be.
  
• Oh yes, and I'm fat. Did I mention that?

(Wish me luck....)

UPDATE:
It was brilliant! We laughed ourselves silly and even ended up with seats in the front row. I was making whooping noises in the applause, it was that good. Then I got back home and found out that you lot are the best blog-friends ever! Talk about a wonderful birthday.
Its five minutes to February here now, so I cant hang around and say more, except, THANK YOU!!! :-)