Are you pregnant and feeling scared, confused, sick, elated, a bit rubbish, amazing, possibly all of these? When I was pregnant I veered from being a manic, over-organising machine ordering too much baby gear to curling up like a grannie on my sofa with a blanket on my knees sipping endless cups of green tea.
I'm not saying it isn't a wonderful happy ending: falling passionately in love with someone for the rest of your life, someone who'll forever support you and of whom you'll never tire. But it's the journey which appeals to our imagination, not the destination. The fact 39 per cent of marriages end in divorce provides further evidence for that.
"Living together is no guarantee of commitment. A study by Pollard and Harris found that 41% of cohabiting men were not 'completely committed' to their live-in girlfriends." Forty one percent?! What the study fails to mention, is that these arses would probably be no more committed to you if you married them and handcuffed them to the sofa.
If you're a single woman, it's highly likely that the most annoying things you encounter on a daily basis aren't bad dates or jerks hitting on you while you're on the train. Rather, it's the 'wisdom' that your friends, family and strangers on the street love to dispense when the subject of your single-dom comes up.
Our High Street this week, I have to say, is a shame to us all. It's gone a trashy shade of red. The colour pollution of Valentine's paraphernalia started four weeks ago. Four! Barely had the dregs of the January sales rails been relegated further into bargain bins when Clinton's was transposed into a sea of red.
Almost everything sold in the supermarket is aimed at an audience of two or more. Your hand hovers over the English muffins, packed in sixes. You'll never eat six, not before they go stale. The only way you could get through six muffins before the mould hits is by having them for every meal for the next two days.