I was going to post about my weekend in Margaret River, spent with a decent amount of wine, food and friends.

There were a few things it crossed my mind to post about - how enough wine can make even a bus load of strangers into friends, how awesome I am (shut up) in coming up with celebrities for impromptu games Celebrity Heads or the extremely random moment on Saturday night where I thought I could hear the thoughts of the other people at the table (um… yeeeeah).

But I feel like a big bag of shite and I can barely string a coherent sentence together. It’s not booze related for once but I feel as though my head is going to fall off if my brain doesn’t explode out through my mouth first. I’ve never been a person who gets sick that much, which may be why I hate, hate, hate it so much - the loss of control, that hideous cold shaky feeling that accompanies it and the moment of realisation that, no, two panadol and a cup of hot tea just aren't going to be enough this time.

Somebody stick a fork in me: I’m done.