I have a job, miraculous, but true. A friend telephoned me in a fever of excitement, telling me about this job she had just heard about through a friend. I called them straight away, got an interview and now I have the job.

The really incredible thing about this piece of news for me is that should I have written a list of things I want from a job, this one would be it. It's two days a week, working in marketing and PR for a gorgeous small company, selling gorgeous things. I started last week and I love it. The office is all whitewashed walls, old oak floorboards and ethnic rugs. There are enormous windows and apple macs, squashy sofas and fresh coffee. It's gorgeous.

I feel like my old self too. Thinking about my work and what I need to do. Scanning newspapers and magazines with a renewed interest. The funny thing is that had I seen this job in the newspapers, I would probably never have had to courage to go for it. Yet here I am, doing it - challenged, definately, but doing it.

Of course, there's always a flip side. I always knew that the money I earned would not exactly go on fripperies (there are a pair of Russell & Bromley studded ankle boots that if there were any justice in the material world, should really be mine), but even so, you can't help making little plans. Anyway, I got home from work after the first two days on a real high and the following morning I received a letter from my son's school, basically saying that if the school fees were not paid in full then he wouldn't be able to return to school after half term. I've known that they haven't been paid and have been worrying about it more or less incessantly. My partner had always paid half of them before now, and he hadn't responded to any of my emails asking him about what was going to happen now. I managed to pin him down finally and basically he said no.

Out came the calculator and the funny thing is that my job will pay for my son's school fees, more or less to the penny. I'm so grateful that I've got this job - had I received that letter with no form of income, I would have wanted to fall face down into a ditch and never get up. I don't care about the boots anymore, what I'm getting out of all this is so much more important. Month by month, I can keep the most important thing for my son. And I'm doing it all myself.

Feels really good and one thing ticked off my Things I Can Do To Make Life Better list. Failing miserably with the giving up smoking. By failing, I actually mean not trying, but I will get there sometime very soon.

For the sake of economy, I have started smoking roll ups. There is something spectacularly seedy about this activity. You 'ash' yourself constantly for one thing and have to screw your face up in a gargoyle like manner to draw on them because they are so small. They're also very high maintenance - constantly needing relighting etc and rolling them in the first place is an epic undertaking of dexterity and organisation - there's the tobacco to find, filters, papers, it's endless. I don't know why I bother.