A step in the wrong direction?

I woke up today determined to attend the first newspaper meeting and quit not only my position as Culture Editor, but the entire paper completely. I got there and realised that I was actually too good at it, had been there too long, and didn't deserve to have it removed from my life by a boy who's too selfish and immature to compromise.

Basically, my ex-boyfriend edits Comment after I managed to get him a position on the staff back in the foolish days of our heady love. When things ended nastily the newspaper became a huge bone fo contention and he's been asking me to leave since January.

Things have turned out in my favour ultimately. I have relinquished my Culture role to a friend who deserves the opportunity, and taken on the position of chief copy editor. This means I'll only have to be in the office on Sunday nights into the wee small hours leaving all the time I need for visiting Ali and doing my dissertation. It also means less chance of running into my miserable ex leaving my life as cheerful as possible. Of course the benefits to my CV when I'm hankering after publishing jobs will be ten fold. As I walked away from the meeting though, I couldn't help but wonder whether sticking to it rather than cutting that part of my life off completely was just a step in the wrong direction. I guess we'll see.

Mouldy Wall Update:
I called the contractors a few minutes ago only to be told they'd washed their hands of the job because they weren't prepared to work in a room which had furniture in. I managed to get a word in edge ways in the face of his ignorant refusal and persuaded him that with my personal possessions and smaller bits of furniture gone, they could work around the bed if it was covered in a dust sheet. He seemed to see my point and is coming round tomorrow to take a look. I'll have to fully convince him then because I refuse to let this farce drag on any longer.

I'm sick of hearing from people prophecies of doom and gloom about the wall and the need for me to move out. Where exactly do they expect me to live, work and eat? A little support for my case would be really helpful and at the moment the only person giving me any is the man from The Flat Company (ironically enough knowing their professional credentials!) Even my flatmates have nothing positive to say on the matter. It's making me so cross I actually don't want to speak to anyone.

I have been enjoying a simple, happy little life all summer. Now it feels as though it's slowly ebbing away. I must keep the angst at bay. A few nights of peace and love in Manchester will sort me out I'm sure! Roll on Thursday.