Once again, here I am instead of revising. I'll be regretting this on Wednesday when I sit my exam, although maybe not so much when myself and A are doing our Big Reveal in Elle that we have been dreaming of every night for the past week.
Anyway, that's besides the point.
The other day, Saturday I think it was, it was really hot and we decided to hit the park with a few of our friends, have a BBQ, drink too much cider, you know it goes. Summer times. Before we left, V decided to pull out the masses of summer clothes she had stored away under her bed. Please bare in mind that these had been there since September. Not long after this hideous fashion show, she discovered a rash on her chest. We just put it down to dust, nothing serious, and we carried on with our plan for the day.
Cut to Sunday morning whilst I was on my way back from the bathroom; I heard the instantly recognisable plee for attention, the familiar shreek: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?", so obviously I had to poke my head around the door.
V's face literally resembled that of a burns victim, and I seriously do hate saying that but it's true. Her whole body had swollen up, her eyes were all puffy.. it was awful. She said she felt fine within herself though so off she trotted to the hospital and she returned a few hours later armed with some topical steriods and some other hayfever-like tablets. The doctor put it down to either dust mites or a contact rash. Lovely.
Now, not long after she returned from A&E, she came into my boudoir where I had just sat down to do some serious revision. And I mean serious, I'd blocked all Facebook and Twitter access, even turned off my phone, then in she walks acting all innocent (which, can I add, does not work well with me) and asked me to go to the shop and get her some chocolate.
My answer? Fuck off.
Would she do the same for me? I think not.
Does that make me a bad person? I'm not ashamed to say that personally, I don't believe it does.