Two-faced

My collection of two-faced artefacts is growing. First was the rotating clock/thermometer, then the reflective Mother & child, and now the reversible Rembrandt cushion-cover; newly created from a couple of tea towels from the Ashmolean gift shop.

Those of you with a keen eye for detail might spot that all of the furniture in my flat has been rotated through 180 degrees about an imaginary vertical axis in the centre of my space. The reason for doing this was to facilitate the administration of a Biblical flood to the flat beneath mine whilst causing the least possible damage to my own property. I don't suppose I need to tell you that the sounds of Hell have been boiling up from below since my return home on Friday.

But insufferable as it may be, it isn't causing any physical damage to the building, which a flood might do, and it's not so loud as to cause a public nuisance. It's just hovering in a place somewhere between thoughtless inconsideration and targeted bullying. The more I try to let them know that it is invasive the more invasive it suddenly becomes, so yes, in truth, it is bullying.

It's only about nine months since we were really quite chummy, and I can see as plain as day the manipulation being applied by the boyfriend who chose to move in without an invitation. When you have ridden the ghost-train yourself you know which corners the spooks will choose to jump out from.

So I can see that she is currently undergoing that special kind of “assertiveness training” designed to turn all your allies and support network against you, and I refuse to be complicit.

But it's awfully difficult, which is why it helps to have a huge fat squashy cushion to scream into.

I have an awful lot of blip-catching up to do and I apologise for being neglectful. I had a 60-hour weekend and it has vanished.