I had a good day today; I cycled to work for the first time in two months which is also the first bit of exercise I've done in that time so was feeling really pleased with myself. Work is ridiculously hectic but is going well and I'm really enjoying it.

Too good to be true? Of course.

I've been busying myself with work and not being at home much and I thought H and I were getting on pretty OK. And we are, it's just that me and my mess are still really stressing him out and while I'm relaxed at home/in the house (don't think it's my home anymore), he's not.

I don't think I've been in denial but I've definitely been putting off moving out. Why add to my stress levels by moving when I'm feeling really (remarkably) fine? It's just so sad and upsetting packing everything up, and I've got so much stuff to pack. I'm trying to repeat Katie's mantra in my head: "Get rid. Get rid."

But so far, I've packed up one box and can't really cope with packing anything else!

I think I'll take Friday off and start packing everything up properly - it's just too tiring and upsetting to do it in the evenings.

On the plus side, I can still pop by and pick up my mail so I don't have to change my address until I know what my long-term plans are going to be.