My husband is struggling to a) find a flat to rent and b) supply all the documentation to the agents because they all want it supplied online. I don’t know why he didn’t just walk into an estate agent where they can do all these things for you. <sigh>.

He asked if I could help him, but since I was just dashing out for a blood test, that has to wait until I finished work.

He wasn’t in the mood for any help with uploading documents when I got home. He was having a bit of a meltdown about it – how nothing is easy and how the world is no longer built for the internet-illiterati (my words).

That was ok, but then he started having a go at me and how this wasn’t what he wanted and it was all my fault. How it is so difficult getting a straight answer off me. And how I now have everything that I’ve ever wanted.

I’m afraid that is very quickly got glue brain and very tired. I go from in the room to zoned out in no time at all these days. I hate this, but I don’t seem to have any power to prevent it.

I went to bed and fell asleep immediately.

I was woken early by shouting out screaming from my husband’s room. I recognised them as the sound of frustration. He’s frustrated with life, with me, with moving.

I went in and tried to hold him, but what reassurance is there for him in my embrace?

I was low all day at work; my boss noticed it, and I didn’t even perk up when he took me to lunch. I took my time leaving the office and cycled home the long way, but the house was by destination and I had to arrive there eventually…

…when I got home, he was doing that shouting again. From the back garden, it really did sound crazy.

I walked the dog and then sat in the garden playing various solitaire games on my phone into I was was tired enough – or sad enough – to sleep.