Mistaken Identity

I'm extremely frustrated! Last night I came in from work donning a new top. Nothing extravagent, expensive or that noticeable.

Since our finances merged I've fallen into that female trap of lying about the things I buy ('I've had it for ages' or 'it was in the sale' anyone?!). I had my story all worked out but last night he gave me a hug and asked, 'It's new isn't it?!'

I could have lied. In fact I should have lied but he seemed in such a good mood I didn't think it mattered. How wrong was I?! Off he went, ranting on about clearing it with him before I buy clothes, that I shouldn't be spending our money when we're planning a move and that I just bought a dvd (disc not player!! And that had been another drama) a week ago.

Usually I bite my lip and offer to take it back because at least then it blows over in time. The way it leaves me feeling like a total walkover is by the by. Last night I lost it against my better judgement. I wasn't angry but upset and as I sat there disecting our relationship I kept screaming at myself, 'why?! why are you putting yourself through this?! listen to what you're saying to him, you're not happy!'

It was horrible and his defiant nature just winds me up more. I poured my heart out to him to no avail. Suddenly everything was out there bare for him to see and he never blinked an eye. The horrible hour ended when he loaded on the pressure and said that I am the only thing in his life that makes him truly happy. Enter guilt and there I find myself hugging him and apologising... End of.

A girl, Alex, seems to have latched on to me at work. At first our friendship started out rosy. A chat here, a coffee there...

Now (warning I am going to sound like a bitch) she is driving me crazy! There is always something wrong, probably caused by the fact she is deeply sensitive about eveything.

I couldn't understand at first why no one really gave her much time, but sadly it's becoming startlingly obvious. If I'm not counselling her through something trivial then I'm trying to explain to her why a comment I made wasn't meant to offend her. Really, for the first few weeks I was starting to question how everyone else took me but from listening to her go on (and on, and on, and on.....) I finally realise it's not so much a problem with me.

Just yesterday she asked me to go for lunch, told me someone had been flippant with her and then said she really needed me to make her feel better. Half an hour of compliments and niceities later, I made one teasing remark and I spent the rest of the afternoon explaining what I meant.

I'm beginning to see it as attention seeking to be honest and I wish I could be harsh enough to shake her off. At the same time I'm sure she has muhc bigger issues and I should sympathise rather than judge (blah, blah). Ah well, I imagine the next 'dilemma' is scheduled shortly....

I am missing DJ a lot at the moment, I'm trying to ignore it but it's not that easy. But I will grin and bear it!

In the meantime I've turned my attention to a few phone calls and messages that have crept up from the City Boy. All flirty but innocent and good fun. Then at the weekend we casually reasoned out why it would be fine to meet for a drink and a catch up (can you catch up with someone you've only actually met once?!). My story for Jazz was that he was an old school friend.

Anyway we did last night. It took my mind off DJ and Jazz, who is on a mission at present to make me feel guilty about not seeing his family enough. The drink(s) with the City Boy was fun and so easy. No, he's not DJ or Jazz but he is uncomplicated and fantastic to be around.

As I said it was perfectly innocent - when we said 'goodbye' and he comically swayed back and forth as though not sure whether to dive in for a kiss, we laughed. The fact we quickly decided we better not and then kissed anyway is beyond the point. Or so I'm telling myself.

I was having a blissfully private moment last night when Jazz came in.

I had just baked a chocolate cake (very Stepford Wives) and was devouring the leftover mix (very horrendously mucky 3 year old) when Jazz unexpectedly got home. Like a deer caught in headlights I looked up at him guiltly when he stepped into the kitchen. There was no horror at the fact I had chocolate all over my face. In fact he laughed, walked over, gently wiped the chocolate away with his thumb and kissed me.

It's moments like this that make me realise why I'm with him. Despite everything there's a lot of love there. It may have turned from sheer passion into comfort and companionship but it is love all the same. Nevertheless, I'm sorry, Mr McCartney, but love really isn't all you need.

Rushed out at lunch today to do way more things than I had time for. I made it back just in time with no thanks to half the Octogenarians out there.

First were the two in Starbucks. All I wanted was to grab a coffee and get out of there but it was not to be so. They dithered and chatted away to the assistant about nothing in particular as I frantically attempted to highlight the fact I was in a rush.

Then it was the toddler who insisted in holding both his grandparents hands, resulting in the takeover of the whole pavement. 30 people trying to squeeze through that bottle neck at once was quite a picture.

And finally I had to shove through the entire British population of the Blue Rinse Brigade, merrily cooing over a newborn, to get into the office.

Yes, I understand older generations can afford to go at a slower pace, but what about all us young people with places to go, people to see and deadlines to meet?!

Having come to some sort of agreement over London, Jazz and I set about having a really great weekend together. The intention is good but somehow this seems an impossible task at the moment. Don't get me wrong, there was a lot of fun and, for the first time in ages, peaceful conversation. There was even a hot, passionate encounter that resulted in our wedding photo crashing to the floor. An ironic omen possibly.

It was later on Saturday night when it all went a bit wrong. For the third time this week he checked my messages. Not just messages but the list of calls, photos and phonebook. Needless to say for the third time this week I found myself being asked to explain every single call, message or male name in my phone.

'What does this message mean? What did you say to him before? Who is this? You work with the guy, why would you phone him at 9pm? And why would he phone you back then?'

And so it went on..... While he barked questions at me I frantically had to try and work out dates, times and what on earth I was doing. The most annoying part being that they were all such innocent calls and messages that I had barely even registered them in the first place.

On Saturday though it was late and I was tired so I just went to bed, refusing to explain anything until the morning. Granted, this wasn't entirely fair as he then sat up most of the night fighting his paranoia. Then in the morning just as he drifted off I woke him up at 8am, stuck the light on and had it out with him. I explained, he apologised and yet again I find myself deleting messages and calls just incase he gets the wrong idea. Where does it end?!

Apparently a serious caffeine overload does nothing for your looks.

Having a little bit of a hangover (I blame the football) and one of the most hectic days since I've started here, I've had/wanted to fill up on copious amounts of strong, black coffee. I had thought this had gone unnoticed until Cliff of all people, came into the office and asked if I'd been crying. Worst of all, when I said no he asked me if I was sure and then reassured me that if I needed anyone to talk to....

Great! He thinks I'm an emotional wreck when really my eyes are simply all gross and bloodshot due to that hundredth mug of coffee. Nice to see his sensitive side though, there was certainly no sign of that on the swinging veranda. Not that I'm complaining.

On an deeply random note I'm possibly relying too heavily on lyrics by the Smiths to inspire me regarding London. Wow this caffeine hit really has floored me.

A couple of nights ago Jazz and I had a bit of a heated discussion in the car regarding.....surprise, surprise.....London. It ended with me in tears, telling him I really needed him to compromise somewhere and him looking out the window. It was when we got to Tesco that we began to try and play the tune to a lighter note but unsuspectly he said something that has really stuck:

I just need a few things, why don't you wait in the car?
No, we need juice....you won't be able to carry it
Ha bloody ha. I'm stronger than you think
Yeah, right
A silent trip around Tesco and we find ourselves back in the car
There's no way you could have carried those bags on your own.
Of course I could.
Well you never do?
Maybe I'm just taking advantage.
He laughs and I reach over and touch his hand but he pulls it away
God, I'm such a fool. What is this? As always I make the first move and you take the piss! Why can't I just leave it down to you?!
Because you're weak. You know as well as I do that you'll always come running back.

I'm probably reading way too much into it but just the fact he said that has made me so angry. I don't think he realises just how much that comment is tempting me to pack a case.

On a more positive note I think we may have worked something out about London. It means spending quite a bit of time apart but in some ways I'm relieved.

Being distracted with London etc I haven't been firing on all cylinders at the moment. With this in mind my 'quaint' whistling kettle has simply become a hindrance.

This morning as I yet again weighed up the pros and cons of London, I stuck on the kettle for my morning pick-me-up. Somehow forgetting I'd done this I dived in the shower and was soon interrupted by a loud screaming. It had been going on so long that the rustic whistle more closely resembled a cat mid strangulation - not pleasant at 7am.

While trying to rub conditioner into my hair with one hand and attempting to wrap a towel around me with the other, I ran through to the kitchen (a trail of wet footprints behind me) to shut the damn thing up. Starting to think electric kettles definitely have their purpose.

In the space of a week I've managed to find myself with a new job in London (yet to be accepted), a husband who has decided he won't move there nor is he happy with me sharing my time, a family who over use the expression 'I'm so proud of you but I'm never going to be happy with you moving to London', and friends who are virtually handing in my notice and packing for me......

Now without a clue where to turn I am merrily turning my attention to mild flirtation and slightly inappropriate behaviour.