There is trouble brewing in the household.

At Christmas, I laid down the law and told J that either he agrees he wants to have kids with me (not necessarily right now, but at least at some point in the foreseeable future) or he can piss off back to the Land of Smog and Overpriced Public Transport.

J, of course, has risen to the challenge by being ten times as neurotic as usual, which is a strain for him, me and everyone around us, including I am guessing his therapist who is up for a nasty surprise when he returns from his extended Christmas vacation next week sometime.

I am not doing this to be nasty. Well, maybe a little, but mostly because I genuinely want children, and if I end up not having any, I don't want it to be because my socially anxious and obsessive boyfriend dithered until it was too late.

At any rate, what can one do except hope. J's big fear is that he will "fail to bond with his children". This is so neurotic and absurd I don't even know how to form an adequate emotional response. But, being the rigid and security-seeking person that he is, he has decided he would rather spend his life alone, miserable and cuddle-less in the Cesspit of the UK that is home of his job from which he has been granted a 12 month sabbatical (due to expire in two months, thus adding to his stress), than be with me and have children. Better the devil you know, even when it is a really sucky one.

So I can do nothing except wait, which is what I have done for the past five years (read my backblog and you will know what I mean). But time is almost up. I don't think I can take much more, and although I will be so ashamed to tell my mother that I have screwed up yet one more long-term relationship with a man she has come to know and I think even like quite a lot, that is better than living in this limbo which sucks the energy from me to such an extent that all I can do is reruns of WoW HC dungeons and knitting.

Apropos, something good has come of this. Over this week and last week I have knitted two hats (se photos) and also about 7 cm of my "new" sweater which I started over a year ago now. The sweater is done on 3 mm needles, which I now realise was a massive mistake, but since my mother has invested £40 in the wool I feel obliged to finish it (you might see a pattern here with me feeling obligated towards her, but really, she puts no pressure on me and is generally a good mother). Luckily this semester at uni consists of a lot of compulsary classes with no exams at the end of the course, and since emotional upheaval means I don't concentrate well enough to take notes, I figured I might as well knit.

One of my friends whose birthday is coming up is pretty much bald and has almost frozen to death during the late cold snap. I shall grant him one of the hats and at least one life will have been improved by this ridiculousness.

Will be back once I've secretly skewered all the household condoms with a very small needle.