After a major wobble yesterday morning, I managed to get a grip and coped pretty well with the day. It was helped by the fact that the boss-boss and boss-boss-boss were coming so I couldn't really sit there crying and really had to make a massive effort to seem intelligent.

So yay! And yay for today. A day off. After two months of working four and a half days a week, I’m back down to three and a half. Hurrah! How did I ever survive working so much? Oh yes, I didn’t.

Anyway, days off in the week (when you’re working) are much better than the weekend. Well, for me anyway as I feel much less lonely than I do at the weekend: pottering about, listening to the radio, going food shopping, just hanging out on my own doesn’t feel so bad. More normal. Less mad. After all, weekends are for fun and socialising and if you don’t have that you feel wrong. I’ve got lots of things to do, all the same things I’ve had to do last weekend and the weekend before but today I think I might actually do them. Cancelling bills from Henry’s for a start... After all, I only moved out three months ago.

Oh, except that is, when other people ask you what you did on your day off and you feel like you have to say something good. Other people, other people. What is that about? Other people make me happy, other people make me sad.