So, somewhere in a dusty and disorganised corner of my tiny mind, I decided it might be a jolly wheeze to have an 80s-themed costume party this Saturday, to celebrate my depressingly imminent birthday.

I love planning parties. I love deciding on a theme, then picking the music, the food, the decorations, etc. I wouldn't even mind doing it for a living if my job didn't involve (this week, at least), writing humorous speech bubbles for pictures of fruit, decked out in Christmas paraphernalia.

Don't ask.

But with big ideas come big pratfalls, and this week started off with me floating on a serene cloud of "This party planning lark is so easy ! I could totally do this all the time." But in what must be record time, my smugness was replaced with an increasing sense of "Oh my God. Oh my GOD. What have I DONE?!"

The person I'd been counting on to help me curl my hair couldn't make it. I know how princessy that sounds, but honestly, I am hopelessly useless when it comes to doing anything with my hair. I discovered I was fatally low on cash, leaving me unable to buy food. A pair of lace gloves and some other bits I bought from eBay have failed to arrive, despite being ordered at the beginning of October. They're being delivered to my office, so they have until Friday to arrive, or I'm screwed. The flat needs cleaning and adorning with decorations of some sort, but I have virtually no time in which to do it. Ditto, preparing food .....

...... and I developed a stye on my left eyelid. A big, painful, sore stye. Apparently they can be caused by stress. Huh...

But while I've been flapping around like a headless chicken this week, a handful of truly fantastic people are doing the following, without my even asking:

- The two eBay sellers have sent me replacement items free of charge
- Craig (Boyfriend) went hunting around Camden to buy me a pair of lace gloves, has lent me money, and is going to spend all Saturday helping me
- The New Flatmate has offered to clean and decorate the place on Saturday
- My friend Laura has offered to come round on Saturday and curl my hair. My hair is huge. It's a mammoth job.

Completely out-of-proportion hissy fits are my bag. They're what I do. No problem is surmountable when I've decided I want to pitch a fit over it. But I just can't this time. With so many lovely people doing these great things and going so out of their way for me, how can I possibly get in a state? How very lucky I am to have such great friends, and what lovely people to launch me into the grand old age of 26.

So, although my eBay items and their replacements are still floating around in the ether, and I'm literally flat out from now until the small hours of Sunday morning, I'm happy. I have lovely people around me, I'm going to have a great party, and, thanks to my tweezers, I'm four whole eyelashes lighter on my left eye than I was on Monday.

It hurt possibly more than childbirth, and made me turn the air blue with profanity, but that stye is a thing of the past, I'm telling you.