Lost confused and looking for Inspiration - Stage 2

It seems like I have spent all my life packing boxes and transporting them to our trailer that seems to be ever decreasing in size. I know its really only been this weekend but every waking moment and thought is based around our need to clear our three bedroom house and insert all the stuff we had into a 35 by 15ft trailer. My mother’s loft is groaning under the boxes we have secretly secreted there. "Just a couple of boxes mum, wont take up too much space" - 10 boxes later we run for home hoping she wont have noticed.

We got most of the big stuff down to the trailer on Saturday, the road becoming a familiar blur as we did copious ground hog day journeys. If it hadn’t been for the radio I could have sworn we were stuck in some sort of freaky removal time warp continuum - destined to pick up and drop boxes until we had earned our release!

As the day drew to a close I did a real stupid thing and purchased copious amounts of beer from our local shop. I started to cook one of K's favourite meals, sausage casserole. My thinking was that we could spend our last Saturday night in this home that has become a house with full bellies - sat in our huge corner bath reminiscing and enjoying the sensation of being together. That was my idea anyway.

What actually happened was the DVD box set I brought K for his birthday went on and we slurped our way through two of the discs - sausage casserole bubbling away nicely. Halfway through the third disc I in my "I’m drunk and need to discuss life" way started my usual whining "talk to me, tell me how you feel, are we doing the right thing, do you love me" and as usually happens K got mad.

We shouted at each other about the importance of changing the toilet roll and who does or doesn’t do it. He said he was going back to London as he'd had enough of me. The sausage casserole and baked potatoes went out the back door against the wall and I began to unpack the joint boxes putting my stuff into one and his into another. We shouted some more about money and who owned what and somewhere in between repacking boxes and hurling harsh words at each other K went to bed and I fell asleep in the living room - Ahhh married bliss!

The next morning I woke with a bad head convinced we had agreed to part company (for the 15th, nay 25th time this year) I armed myself with hurt and expected the recriminations to begin but nope - K made me coffee and burnt some toast. When I said in my tart I’m not talking to you tone "I thought you were moving back to London" he said I was being "F***ing stupid and the only place he was moving to was the caravan". So we began packing up boxes again - yesterdays bizarre harmony and togetherness was sorely missed.

The day didn’t get much better. In fact the highlight was going for my first colonic - I have a friend who is training and needed a guinea pig - Hmmm something’s you just cant blog about!

On our last journey from mums I spied roses and CD's, brought from Morrisons, on the floor of the car – passengers side. Its the "thought that counts” the grateful part of my mind thought "Would have been nice if he had hidden them" - the ungrateful part sniped and with that I plunged myself into my morbid "where is the romance gone" mood.

I know it was a bad day for both of us because we went to sleep without kissing each other goodnight. A silly ritual we both go through but one that means we have agreed to disagree and are willing to put the days hurt aside. Tonight we are obviously still licking wounds and wondering why the other person is being so disagreeable.

So Im sat typing this sipping herbal tea wishing sleep would come and claim me - my main thought right now is "What do I bally well get him for Valentines Day?"