You know what I'm going to say......

Brothers, friends, only friends in fact: my posting has been so sparodic. The truth is we have moved house and my misery is deep and bottomless.

It smells, and there is a view of a motorway. Whatever possessed me to come here? Daughter hates me because its further away from school. And Son and Husband just hate me. Even the cat's given me the cold shoulder. There is no-one to turn to, o my brothers.

I'm going to have a take a break from the blogging thing, o my loves. My heart is just not in it at the moment. I will miss you all.

The truth is, besides contemplating suicide, I'm gonna try writing a book. Don't ask me why. Like Joan of Arc, I had a calling. The literary world needs you, God has told me. And even though he has been so very brutal with me of late, I will heed his words and go forth.

The truth is, if I write a bestseller, I can get out of this shithole.

Bless you, you really are my only friends at the moment. You and the young Polish painter upstairs. And his English is a bit iffy, if you want to know the truth. But he smokes, so we are like brothers. Tho' no-one can take the place of you, my friends.

Sob! You mean so much to me. I will always treasure the moments we have all had together and do you remember that time..... Bugger, only two fags left, the new local shop for me.

Forgive me, o brothers and only friends, your humble narrator has strayed and gone over to The other side - the Outside World. And such a wicked cruel place it was too.

Eight months this house selling business has been going on. Decided this week I could not Go On. Put my head in the oven and waited - before realising we were electric. (I know, thats an old one), asked Fatso if he had any arsenic - and would he like to come on this journey with me. I would take comfort from dying with Fatso. The fat Git woke up abruptly and offered me the only ware he could in the circumstances. Extra strong Annadin.

Mind you, they say you look bloody terrible after swallowing arsenic and other poisons. They burn your insides and you go all blue and that. Not serene looking like Snow White and that. And I'm already two stone overweight and lardy, I don't want to look any worse.

My mate's got one of those big paddling pools, quite deep. Considered putting my head under but they say drowing is an awful way to go, your lungs burst and it hurts and that.

I considered running to the kids for support. And in my head, I knew what they'd say to their poor mother - Good Riddance, daughter would say. Sod off, son would say, now we can get a decent stepmother who won't stink of fags and hold us back. And don't expect us to come to the funeral either. Except to dance on your grave! By the way, we want money for Westfield.

The little buggers! It seemed the whole world was against me. I ran to the Cat for comfort and that furry featured little cow just bit me!

Today, drawin on my Polish fag, trying to find a huge building in my A-Z to jump off, Husband texted. We have now exchanged contracts, it said. The sun came out.

Off to a wedding in Holland tomorrow. And even tho' I'm down to my last £100 - I'm having a Beano in Duty Free!