I have to confess to feeling rather sorry for myself today, which is, of course, both stupid and futile.

We’re broke – and I’ve been feeling very guilty indeed about spending that £24 on a handbag – however much I ‘needed’ it. It’s not terminal in as much as it’s really as a result of moving – lots and lots of expenses that we just didn’t realise or plan for have reared their ugly heads and bitten us. (Is that a mixed metaphor?) It’ll right itself once all of these expenses have sorted themselves out but for now being in my shoes isn’t a comfortable place to be.

I have got to the point where I wish I could shoot someone at Pickfords. Their service has been utterly appalling and they cheated me out of a good deal of money because I was too stupid to notice they’d not given me one of the key numbers in writing. They also packed our belongings, for which they charged us a very large sum of money. When I unpacked, half of the boxes were half empty so for the five months we were in storage, we were paying for space that if our goods had been packed properly then we wouldn’t have needed.

Once our belongings were in their storage depot, they’d got us by the short and curlys and we had no choice but to stump up the money they said they deserved, despite them quoting me verbally less than half of the amount they took from me to transport it all to Cornwall. They broke some of our stuff, most significantly our bed so we’ve been sleeping on the floor for over a month now. It’s quite interesting that you get one week in which to submit a claim to them but they can take as long as they like, forever if they feel like it, to settle the claim. They also damaged the fabric of the house itself and they say we didn’t take out adequate insurance to cover that despite the fact that what they did was downright negligent. If there is anyone out there thinking about using Pickfords to move their stuff, my advice is ‘don’t’. If you really feel they are your only alternative then make sure you get everything in writing and don’t leave a single thing to chance.

All of these things are weighing me down – especially given our precarious financial situation – I just feel as though I might as well have taken the money out of the bank and burned it, using our belongings as fuel for the fire.

Not only that but one of my company’s so-called IT experts messed up my laptop good and proper yesterday – I can’t get online on it or into my company’s mail system and other servers so while I was working (yep – day 4 again this week – no such thing as a 3 day week) I was having to go through the tortuous extra steps of putting the files I needed to send to work onto my camera’s memory card and then transferring them onto my own PC so I could send them from my home email account to someone in my office who then sent them onwards to their intended recipient. Of course when I tried to phone him he wasn’t there and he didn’t call me back. I finally lost my rag at lunchtime and sent him a dead stroppy email from home, which sent me into more misery because I hate un-known bods in our company having access to my personal contact details – it’s one thing letting my friends and immediate colleagues have it but quite another letting some upstart who I’ve never even seen have it.

I’m still tired too – very tired in fact. I so badly need some time for me.

Of course as is always the case (for me anyway), I ended up taking all my woes out on the ones I love best so DM and the dogs got shouted at and I felt like a complete bitch from hell when I found Arch in the corner with his nose pressed into the wall. How much of a completely vile human am I? I love that little critter and he was obviously really upset by me. Sometimes I need a good slap and today is one of those days.

So, tonight when it came to preparing supper I needed comfort and for me that means mashed spuds.

Last year, my world couldn't have been more different - not a care in the world and one of the most exciting times of my life.