Dear Diary

Made disappointing trips various places, didn't find anything we really wanted for the house. So at the moment, all the walls are still white and bare, and devoid of character. The floors are equally dull.

The new apartment is energy zapping... esp since I'm the kind who has the obsessive need to get everything done ASAP.

If it were solely up to me, we'd be hopping from one furniture store or art gallery to another... relentlessly.... till we find everything we want. No time for rest until the job's done!

Mark on the other hand likes to take things one step at a time, he wants to enjoy the process and doesn't have the sense of urgency which I do.

We've always known that we're different like that. Yin and Yang. I guess opposites do attract. But I realise I do need to move slower... I'm getting burnt out and my impatience is not doing anyone any good.

Two nights ago, when we got home from watching Revolutionary Road, I told Mark that I had to iron the spare bed sheet and duvet cover before we went to bed. He didn't think it was a good idea and that it could be done the next day.

But I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep properly knowing that there's a pile of crumpled bedding still in the clothes dryer. So I insisted on doing it, and Mark said ok, but he wanted nothing to do with it.

He was watching TV while I brought the board out and ironed in the living room. And it was frustrating, cos the ironing board was wobbly. And after I was done, when I was folding the board up I noticed that one of the legs was bent (hence the wobbles)! So I moaned about it to Mark, and he didn't even look up (he was lying on the sofa).

So I dragged it all the way to the sofa to show it to him, and he told me that he had already said earlier that he wanted nothing to do with it.

OK.. he was right... he did state that as a prerequisite when I insisted on doing the ironing. But I just spent the last hour ironing our bloody super king sized sheets on a wobbly board, in the middle of the night even though I was tired, so we'd have clean sheets when we need a change. And when I pointed out that the leg of the ironing board got bent during the move here, all I got was utter indifference.

That night was the first night ever (since we've become a couple) that I went to bed without him. ( We have a ritual of me falling asleep on his chest first before he goes to bed).

I quietly put the board and sheets away, went into the bedroom, shut the door, and crawled into bed. Alone. Miserable.

I lay silent in the cold and darkness, and felt hot tears trickle down my cheeks. I wanted so much for the door to open and Mark to enter, but all I could hear was the TV outside.

For a fleeting moment... I had a worrying flash that this was exactly how our life would be like in the future.

And then he finally came in and was surprised to find me in bed already, without him. I would have pretended to be asleep longer, just to show him that I didn't care. But I did care. And I wanted desperately for him to hold me.

We had a talk about what had happened, apologised to each other. Moving has been exhausting and stressful for the both of us.

And there I was... getting lulled to sleep again in the familiar and secure comfort of his arms...