I wore a suit today, and Bronx heels.

It was a (kind of) job interview, after all. We talked about cars for two hours and I felt strangely 'belonging' again. The Big Family.

In other news, my boys' rugby coach has invited me to 'The Firemen's Party'. I was puzzled by the invitation, especially as I cannot see how a rugby coach may be involved in extinguishing fires, until he told me that he has two jobs. I laughed. He must be at least ten years younger than me.

'Whatever makes you think a married mother of two might be coming to a party like that?' I said. *non-coquettishly*

'I know your two children, and I know you are their mother. I also know that you are not married any more.'

Strictly speaking, that is incorrect, as I pointed out. And how would he know?

'You are not wearing your wedding ring any more.'

I looked down to my bare left hand. I did until a few days ago. Then I realised that Mr Nearly ex-Husband had removed his. It was hypocritical to hang on to mine, so I followed suit.

This, perversely, makes me feel like I DON'T belong any more. Not The Big Family. Not even The Small Family.

That's why I am not going to 'The Firemen's Party'.