I'm not sure what had the biggest impact on disrupting my snooze time last night. It could have been that sinful coffee after 8pm, my crippling migraine, the ferocious gales or the two overly vivid nightmares I had in succession (one of which I was on fire and burning to death, the other a friend had been found dead and I found myself in the car with her murderer).

Either way by 4am I was clutching the duvet and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

Before last night the only neighbour I really had to avoid was the guy from upstairs. As has been mentioned before he's caught me in my underwear, been greeted by me singing loudly and held a conversation with me as I was sneaking out in an outfit similar to that of a fashion challenged clown.

That was before last night, however. In a bid to take our mind off things Jazz and I went out for a meal. It wasn't even 9 o'clock when we were heading home but as a result of nerves I pretty much drank the restaurant. On a way down an isolated road to the flat I was singing 'Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog' at the top of my lungs while dancing - it was quite a sight. This time I walked straight into our neighbour who I pass every morning I go for a run.

Needless to say I've changed my running time. Funny how everytime I'm doing something remotely normal there's no one around to see.

My relationship with Jazz got off to a rocky start when I had to make the inevitable choice between the man I love and my dream job. It was an issue because it meant a move to London which he didn't want to make and clearly I chose him. This was years ago and despite the odd snidey remark I'd pretty much let it go.

A few months ago a conversation with DJ got me thinking about dreams and the fact I now seem to be living in the shaddow of Jazz's. Following this realisation I had many a long conversation with Jazz about what the situation would be if I applied for similar positions (quite possibly in London). We talked and talked and talked..... He finally decided that I should go for it and I made it very clear that I didn't want to even consider pursuing it unless I had his full backing. I hope this is clear because apparently it's not to him.

Three months on and I've been offered an interview. I built up the courage to tell him and his response was that I had to go. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't hard to believe when the colour drained from his face and he uncharacteristically developed the urge to hoover. But the wheels were in motion....

Until last night. Out of nowhere he turned to me and told me there was no way he'd move to London, he'd never wanted to and his career is fundamentally more important. What insued was a horrible argument. I kept firing confused questions at him while he yelled about how selfish I was being, and there I found myself agreeing again to give up the opportunity.

This morning over breakfast he changed his mind back again saying that he could be happy in London. What?!?!?!?!?!?! Now I don't have a bloody clue what to do and as lovely as it is for my friend to list off sacrifices I've made for him, I'm not sure if it's helping.

How far are we meant to compromise ourselves for the people we love?

Being generally quite healthy (minus the odd custard doughnut binge) and energetic it's bothered me a lot recently that Jazz has seen marriage as a free reign to stop any exercise and finish my leftovers. The result obviously being that he's gone from being sexy and lean to developing a small ponch and carrying an extra stone. All in the space of 3 months!!

For the past few weeks he's been going on about how he should do something about it but still nothing. Before it runs into something more I am desperately tempted to subtily say something but know how I'd feel if he said I'd put on weight. Surely it's important to look after yourself for each other though?!

Hmm I've been milling over this for a while now, not helped when he said I looked a bit 'too skinny' last night. Is it acceptable to say something or do I just have to suck it up and see what happens?

I have a strange and awkward relationship with my mum. On one hand we're incredibly close and similar, on the other she's highly critical of everything I do.

With all this in mind it always takes me by surprise when she knows just by looking at me if I've had an argument with Jazz/pulled a sickie/had contact with a certain ex of mine. It always leaves me spooked. Apparently I can't keep anything from her.

Yesterday I met her for lunch and the first thing she told me was that Jazz had told my dad we're trying for a baby. This is so far from the truth I just couldn't believe it. Why go around lying to people about something like that?! It didn't take long to convince her that it was so so wrong and the pill was still safely stashed in the bathroom cabinet.

Her response is what shook me. Her exact words were, 'You're a clever girl. It's particularly hard being a single parent.' Firstly the last time she remotely implied that she thought I was 'clever' was when I went to uni 4 years ago. Secondly, I've very much avoided her while we're having our 'problems' yet she immediately assumed our marriage isn't going to last. It was strangely comforting. Almost like she'd lowered her expectations and just wanted me to be happy and for my mum that's pretty huge.

We've all been the culprit and at the receiving end of these samey and irritating jokes. You know the ones. It's when you start a new job and on your second day everyone, from the mailman to the director says, 'We didn't think you'd be coming back,' while laughing and searching for your response. By the time you've reached your desk you've heard the same line in every possible variation and any genuine smiles or laughter has morphed into gritted teeth and the thought, 'Say it one more time and I won't come back tomorrow'.

The worst offender of all is the one who repeats a circumstantial punchline for the 50th time and follows it up with, 'You've probably heard that a hundred times already today'. If they are aware of this then why say it?!

Yesterday, however, I was the culprit. I do this whenever I do something for Jazz, whether it's the chemist, bank or lawyers. This time I was picking up his prescription when the pharmacist called, 'For Mr ***'. My response? 'That's me. Well, I'm not actually him,' to which I laughed hysterically. Accidentally I slip into this overly-friendly persona who may as well be nudging the poor receiver, with a huge cheesy grin plastered across my face. It wasn't until I walked out the shop and round the corner I realised how utterly annoying and unfunny I actually was.

On the bright side, I presume the world would be an even more unfriendly place without these little ice-breakers, whether or not it seems so at the time.

Grudgingly Jazz accepted that I was going to spend the weekend with Billie, my oldest friend. Among the usual hijinx and inappropriate behaviour we got to talking about an old friend, J from school. Through the joys of social networking she's managed to track us both down and is champing at the bit for a cosy lunch.

J was the girl in our group at high school who frankly was a complete bitch. She was great one-on-one but in a group situation one of us was always be singled out and ridiculed. From what I can remember we would sit quietly as she picked on one of us and then use the phrase, 'that's just J' when she wasn't around. Understandable that after school we lost touch with her then.

We agreed it's neither here nor there how she was in high school, however, word on the street is she's exactly the same. Whether or not we meet her is still to be decided.

It did bring us on to a huge conversation about bitching and the horrible female tendency to want to bring each other down. I'm sure everyone does it in some strain. I calculatedly drove one of Jazz's friends out his life after she admitted to going out of her way to break us up. It was an under-handed and ugly bitch fight which I'm not proud of but was years ago.

Billie bitches loudly about every girl she doesn't know/like after a few drinks so that her boyfriend clocks their flaws. An ugly side to her character.

It's not just us though. When did so many girls find it easier to tear each other to shreds than support each other?! I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I have who will be straight up and never stab me in the back. I also have a hell of a lot of acquaintances who, after listening to them criticise everyone they know, leave me questioning what the hell they say about me behind my back.

My little sister (being 12) is slowly sliding down this gossipy path and it was only the other day I heard her call a girl a 'tart'. It made my skin crawl. There's a silent agreement with my friends that we never use this sort of derogatory term about each other - it's better left for the girl who sleeps with your boyfriend if at all.

I've never been much of a 'girly girl' and when someone says that we really must have a girl's night out I'm laughing inside. My best friend for years was a guy and it wasn't until he broke my heart into a million tiny bits that I realised just how important my girlfriends, despite their incessant need to discuss Facebook constantly. So wouldn't it just be nice if some sort of solidarity re-emerged between all the girls out there?!

At this time of year Jazz always becomes closed which he attributes to the infamous 'January Blues'. I am usually quite the opposite and my positivity is screwed into the ground sometime mid-year instead. This year it is not to be so.

I was washing my face last night when I just looked in the mirror and realised how lost I've become. At present I have no major plans for this year and as morbid as it is, for the first time I'm not sure what I'm looking forward to. Perhaps a meal out on Saturday, a weekend away Feb 14th...

The only thing I feel certain about is the impending doom of Annie's funeral though. She's not even dead yet but I can't get it out my head that she won't see 2009. To top it all I've somehow became the one my mum, Annie and Mr T phone for someone to talk to. The odd 3am call over Christmas from my mum has more than drained me, not to mention Annie's increasing tiredness and pain.

It's not been a very good Christmas or a fantastic New Year but I am determined to pick myself up and find the light among the dark in 2008.