Around The House Of Oddness last night to check on first-born. Being 7 she was naturally dismissive and more interested in showing off her new school uniform and posh spectacles.

I did, however, find that someone had slipped a drawing into my coat pocket as I got into the car. It was called "xxxx and Dad in Euro-Disney" and contained shaky images not unlike those produced by Charles Schultz in his declining years. Aw shucks.

But I digress.

The ex was in the kitchen, looking like she'd put on about 30 pounds in the last month (The Boyfriend is partially sighted, so I guess he needs something to grab hold of to save fumbling about in the dark. Yuck.)

She: "What's wrong with you? You're looking very grumpy."

Me: "Well, I am homeless, my daughter is a snot monster and you have taken away my entire future. My only consolation is that, statistically speaking, you'll be dead before me"

Ok, I didn't actually say that. That particular conversation comes when the papers are signed, access rights are formalised and I have a handsome sum of money sitting in the bank, waiting to be spent on debauched trips to Prague.

Instead, I came out with the mantra: "I'm fine"

Off to the Comedy Store at Piccadilly with friends tomorrow. Hurrah for stand-up comedy! Hurrah!