Stress, stress, stress and more stress.

Finally got girlie no 2 off to camp with hopefully all the stuff she was suposed to take just as I get a call from dave to say that he's on his way to Maidstone hospital having fallen off a plane and badly twisted his ankle.

Realise that I've left a load of bottles of wine at work instead of bringing them home ready for tomorrows party, and haven't taken any cash out to get Emma's Birthday Chinese.

Check out the place we're going to for one of my friends hen nights and discover that its not just 70's dress, its major pimp style glam/disco dress code.
And I'm not sure what the hell to wear.
I have to go for a meal with the women that I work with and the hen night girls before we go to the club, and they won't be 'dressed' plus , well, skinny I'm not , and I don't know what the fuck to wear that I wont feel completely twattish in during the meal and yet is done enough to club in afterwards....especially as I don't know most of the other hen night women.

And now girlie no 1 is panicking madly that no-one will turn up for her 16th birthday party tomorrow after a few people cancelled at the last minute.