On a day when I should be super-duper excited, I’m feeling blah. I hate that feeling of getting sick. You know something’s coming and you’re just madly trying to head whatever it is off at the pass. And then you wait to see if you were successful.

I’m dosed to the gills on pills and syrups, praying they’ll work their magic so I can enjoy tomorrow. I had a few sips of wine but decided to forgo the drinking fest that developed in front of me. I drank fluids until my stomach was so hard and bloated that I thought I would explode (and nearly did – still am in some ways).

Only sleep really tells if the last minute warfare was successful. So I’m off to bed, with a glass of water by my bed, hopeful of an at least partial recovery. To be honest, nothing will stop me getting involved in tomorrow’s festivities. I’d just rather be healthy than start out on the back foot. I have three solid days ahead of me and it will be that much harder if I’m sick.

The power of positive thinking they say – well, hear me now, body. I know we can. I know we can. Get your shit together and let’s go do some welcome damage.