Why is it that things have to be so difficult sometimes? Clearly, difficult is all relative – I don’t have a difficult life compared to say, someone serving in Iraq, or someone with a life threatening illness or something, but allow me to indulge myself.

This next two weeks are going to be unbelievably busy. This week we have had the two Parents’ Evenings, and this evening I have been at school until 9pm, talking in great depth with lots of parents about their children. My husband has been in London with work – which means I have had to move heaven and earth to be a mother and do my job. Today, I have been on tenterhooks wondering if he would make it home in time to sort Alfie out – with my Dad and step-Mum on stand by to cover if need be. 4.15 tonight – no word. Ring his mobile. No answer. Just on a whim, I rang home. He was there. He had been there since 1pm. Did he think to ring me and let me know? Text me? No. No, he is not well, hasn’t been for the last two days, poor him. After eating fried rice that I told him not to eat, but oh no he knows better. He’s been in bed asleep and I have woken him. Poor him.

So, I get home tonight and the house is in darkness, he is in bed and the room is in darkness. So, empty house (might as well be) no one to talk to, no one to give me a cuddle, sometimes I think I may as well be single. I do really love him and I know that he loves me but stuff like this really pisses me off.

Oh, and I can’t get the Internet to work, so I’m writing this in Word to cut and paste when it’s back up – this is the second time in three days and I’ve tried everything that I can think of.