|This afternoon I gave the keys of the flat back to the landlord and now I really do actually live over here, not in the city. Bit shell-shocked as well as knackered. It has taken so long and I am so adrift and now the house is full of boxes. There's a couple of slivers of space in the kitchen but to get from the sink or the fridge to the hob you have to breathe in and squeeze through sideways and mind the cat's water bowl. I. Can. Not. Bear. It. which is a bit fucking unlucky because here it is and my choices are a) unravel completely and something else will happen b) suck it up c) moan about it here for a bit and see which way it falls, because from here it could still go either way. My sister-in-law in France loses the plot each time they move house but she then goes to a clinic in the country where she sleeps in a beautiful room, has lovely food, group therapy, one-to-one, walks, swimming, art, blah blah blah. I could do that. I don't know if it's because it's France or because they are wealthy or what - it makes me think of Rachel's Holiday by Marian Keyes, where she thinks she's getting all that but it ends up being some prefab huts surrounded by brambles in a rainy field.

I do know it will be OK. Better than OK.

Today and yesterday, when they were moving the furniture, were wild and windy. Proper mental, coastal winds, relentless, on and on, slamming doors and wooo-wooo-ing all round the corners, making the plants lie down flat and never get up again.

I visited ED on Monday, but in retrospect I may have been a worrying presence rather than anything positive, which is fucking fuck of the worst fucking kind.

And the election, tomorrow. The dirtiest politics I've seen in this country, scary when some of them are prepared to let citizens die. I so want to see the back of Cameron and Osbourne and that whole pack of smug, greedy liars. But I'm not bursting with enthusiasm for Miliband either - Blair did for that, trusting bloody Labour.

I am struggling with gratitudes, but as I wrote that I thought no I'm not, there's a lot to be grateful for, like a roof; a garden; Bloke; you dear peeps leaving kindly comments; the remains of the NHS, keeping me going, tottering along.

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