There’s nothing like a shitty job to make you feel good about coming home to an empty house.

On Friday, the fates that be decided to spin the bottle my way and at our dreaded meeting, I became the target. The boss’s boss ran into each one of my ideas, cross questioning me like I had already finished the story instead of just proposing it. I foolishly decided to pitch one more idea which I was certain would be a sure-fire success because my boss had already been enthusiastic about it but my boss’s boss really had it in for me and steamrolled that one as well. The boss, to her credit, tried to smooth things over on my behalf while I adopted the strategy of nodding and agreeing until they both shut up.

I landed up with a splitting headache that could not stomach the thought of moving off the couch and going drinking with friends. I stayed that way on Saturday, alternating between couch and bed with V, till afternoon until we went over to Kowloon where one of his friends had kindly agreed to be photographed for a story I was writing. Again, I was reminded of the loneliness of living alone as his friend “offered” to accompany us on our afternoon shopping.

It was nice because she could show us all the local places and being from HK, she was into all the techie stuff and gadgets at the computer centre so I could wander off looking at irrelevant things like the Mac I can ill afford. I realised how behind the times I am because I kept looking at things and going ‘what is this’ while the salespeople looked a mix of horrified and amused.

On Sunday, we had V’s Vietnamese friend over for lunch. I sort of insisted we do it because the guy is leaving HK and though we are incredibly lazy about inviting people over, we can’t be that lazy. Also this guy is really nice even though I do get into impassioned arguments with him in which neither one of us wants to let go.

And then on Monday, I conjured up a few interviews so I could hang out with V until he left for the Bombay. My city. Which he will be inhabiting for three weeks. Without me. I know. Get over it.

It’s been three days and feels like forever. I can’t sleep well because I’m used to a warm body beside me. I have a tummy upset attributable to a cocktail of stress, antibiotics, lack of sleep and V-withdrawal. I have started going for a walk in the morning, since I’m up at an obscene hour anyway, in the hope that I will be stunningly slim when V returns. A brisk walk combined with absense of food due to absence of chef should do the trick. Or would, if junk such as Thai curry, samosa and fruit tarts do not go in unfailingly.

So far I’m in a stupor so I’m surviving.