A whinge and a worry

Apologies in advance. If you want to read something cheery and non-self-pitying look away now...

A whinge:

Here is my to do list:
Finish three weeks's worth of work on a ridiculously complicated spreadsheet that I just know isn't going to balance (and no, I'm not an accountant) by tomorrow pm when my boss goes on holiday.  She's lovely but she doesn't understand spreadsheets, so when she asked me to do it, she had (and I think still has) no idea quite how much work it is.
Do all the rest of the work that's been piling up on my desk since I started on the spreadsheet (probably by last week, I don't know, I haven't looked at it)
Organise a party for eight babies (by Friday)
Organise a birthday for two babies (by Friday)
Organise a Christening (Sunday)
Organise a party for 18 adults and I'm still not sure how many babies (Sunday, after the Christening)

Decide what I still need to get for Canada and buy it
Pack for five people to go to Canada including all the Christmas presents but within (of course) the luggage allowance (by about ten minutes before we need to leave for the airport probably)
Sort out a Christmas present for B. Somehow I've done all of Rabbit's friends and relations, but B, love of my life, hasn't made the cut.  This is worrying me more than much of the rest put together, even though I know (because I've told him) that he won't mind.
Make a t-shirt for a paying customer by Friday week (I'm not complaining, really I'm not, I'm delighted to have a proper customer, but I do rather wish she didn't need it by Christmas...)
Arrange A&S's one year jabs (next week, otherwise I'll forget)
Buy a house (before we get kicked out of this one)
Oh, and, do all the usual laundry, tidying, sorting out, cooking, ferrying to nursery, shopping etc that usually fills my few non-working days, with the added bonus that B is going to be in Warsaw next week so can't help.

I burst into tears in the doctor's today.

I didn't mean to. I didn't think I was that stressed. But she asked me how I was and somehow I went to say ok, only something else came out.

Once I'd calmed down she confirmed that I've got high blood pressure (this is the worry).  And I can't make myself believe it's a coincidence that I didn't have high blood pressure when it was checked the week before I went back to work, and I do now.  Not going to kill me tomorrow high, but high enough that she doesn't want me "wandering around with it until [your] life sorts itself out".  So drugs it is.  Which doesn't exactly reduce the stress either. 

I left the doctor and tried to do a lightning strike on Oxford Street (need to buy a t-shirt to decorate for that paying customer).  Oxford Street's a mistake when you're feeling a bit wobbly.  If you were shopping this afternoon and noticed a bedraggled girl in a glamorous cream coat (Primark) huddled in one of those side-alleys in floods of tears, I'm sorry. I'm not usually like that. Honest.

And sitting here, girls asleep, B writing the Christmas cards (you'll note they aren't on my list), I do know that this too will pass.  I am, really, very very lucky and am well aware of all my blessings - and if anyone's still reading, that's just one more!