Foot fetish

Happy New Year secret e-friend, yo yo here again. Chickened out of tomorrow's egg freezing appointment, but did re-schedule it for next Thursday.

It's the Birmingham bit that's the big turn off. That and the pain. Gritting teeth and muddling through will be January's watch words. February actually as it'll have to wait til the next "cycle". It'll be a weight off one's mind so life can be in the moment again.

New Year was surprisingly fun. We had friends over. A couple who don't have sex either. He's addicted to internet porn.

I know this because his wife and I share everything. She whispered in the kitchen that one of his recent escapades has corrupted a whole lot more than his head. The hard drive is now buggered and he lost all the photos of their baby.

She's also found foot fetish magazines and pornography of old ladies. Didn't know what to advise on that one.

Anyway, we played on the Wii and at midnight watched fireworks over south east London from the arched window. Then Nat and Dougal (foot fetish man) turned their attentions to the Wii golf and Laura and I promptly fell asleep on the sofa. Wild.

The next day we went to a riverside pub/restaurant for lunch. The table we initially sat at was in the grubby pub section. Nat found a rather grander setting in the restaurant, where they charged £5 extra per meal even though it was the exact same menu as on the other side of the wall.

Then Dougal - who's terribly tight fisted - started complaining, even though Nat had treated him to a great Indian take away on New Year's Eve. We then had a walk through Greenwich Park and went home.

More egg freezing talk prevailed. I told him this was the first step towards separation and cried.

He's been much nicer since then. Maybe that's my problem. The upset comes out in anger. If I could show it in water instead life may just get sweeter.