Ah irony. Today I decided to forget about the apartment I’ve been waiting to hear about for nearly eleven weeks. Last time I spoke to the agent, he was so rude I couldn’t face making another enquiry, so I mentally wiped it out of my mind. I got back from a trip to the supermarket this afternoon to find a message on my phone saying the apartment is open next Saturday.

Did cutting it loose make it happen? I know that’s probably crap, but it really seemed that way. When I started looking for real estate, I bought a statue of Ganesh, a Hindu god responsible for removing obstacles and smoothing the path of new ventures. This afternoon someone asked me about the statue, and I mentioned he wasn’t working out too well. Ganesh clearly felt the need to redeem himself, because less than an hour later the call came.

So next Saturday between 4 and 4.30pm, please pump out some positive thoughts for me as I jostle with other potential buyers and … who knows?

Miss M’s cupcakes were eaten with gusto today by her classmates, and my kitchen is still a disaster area with traces of hot pink icing and cake batter in the most unlikely places. She’s now lying on her Bratz couch (a birthday present from last year) with curlers in her hair, an odd mix of young and old, thanks to those freaky white cylinders. I’ll be interested to see whether she’ll be able to put up with the requisite pain required to sleep with them in. But I have a feeling her desire for curly hair will mean she’s willing to endure anything.

Today I’m loving: the Cosmopolitan I had with dinner - and Leis’s most recent email!

Ganesh