It’s been weeks since I last had any time to myself at the weekend. Last weekend all of the girls were home because Tom and Greg were both away. The two weekends before that, Amelia and Rosie were home because Greg was away; every weekend before that I’ve spent with Phil, either here or at his. Last weekend I decided that as all the girls would be at their Dads’ and Josh at work, I would tell Phil I wouldn’t be seeing him this weekend, and I would have some much-needed me time.

Except now it’s here, and I’m bored out of my brain.

I feel really lonely and lost. Annie went to play with her cousin at 11.30 am, so I’ve been alone ever since. I’ve got to pick her up in an hour or so, but all I’ll be doing is dropping her off at her dad’s. I feel as though I should be loving this extra time, but I’m not at all. I feel so empty.

My mood all week has been so good; I’ve felt totally fulfilled and without longing, but suddenly it’s hit me again. This damn fucking emptiness, born more out of the fact that I have nothing to do with my time. I could spend it putting things on eBay or tidying up or walking around the shops aimlessly. I could even spend it writing, but right now, I don’t feel like doing anything. But, in doing nothing, I feel emptier.

There’s really not much point in having time to myself when I waste it and feel like crap because of it, but that’s not going to make me rush down to Phil’s, as tempting as it is. The fact remains, it would be for comfort and to ease this emptiness rather than for any other reason, and then I would kick myself for giving up my only free time to spend it doing nothing but having sex, drinking, and sleeping when there are so many other things I could be doing.