On Sunday, March 21st my wife of 11 years (and girlfriend for 4 years before that) announced that she was seeing another man and that it would be jolly nice if I could bugger off.

Our young daughter was out of the room at the time, otherwise fireworks may well have ensued. As it was, I sat in stunned silence.

The fact that this announcement came on Mothers Day (in the UK) demonstrated that fate does indeed have a sense of humour. The sort that pours custard down your trousers while honking an amusingly shaped red nose.

After a week of generally feeling sorry for myself (and boring my friends with tales of heartbreak, sadness and other tediousness) I've decided to record my first few months of being single again in this diary (I detest the word 'blog' - sounds like something you'd flush down the toilet) in the purely selfish hope of getting some closure, and in the altruistic hope that anyone else in this situation might benefit from my experiences (aside from the hedonism, I'll note how the divorce proceedings are going, what the costs are, and how it all plays out.)

Hedonism? Heck yes. I am still young, having married young and now repenting at leisure. I've often speculated what life would be like to be 18 again, knowing (and earning) what I do now. Now I'm going to find out.

Could be a bumpy ride. Grammar is optional.