I am reaching screaming point.

My ‘phone was stolen on Friday, so I have ordered a new one which should arrive at work tomorrow. The call with Orange was interesting – they required my work address [cue frantic fumbling to locate work address - I've only been here a couple of weeks and don't know the postcode] and a telephone number for contacting me in the event of any problems [cue more frantic searches for my work telephone number, which I have never used myself, unsurprisingly]. However as I’m only in until 2pm tomorrow and have no idea how to work the voicemail facility on my work telephone, if they do call me on it I’ll probably never know.

We’re meeting the rabbi this evening, the pair of us and both sets of parents. I had the rabbi’s telephone number, obviously stored in my damned mobile telephone, and now of course I don’t have it any more. So I checked the synagogue’s website but forgot momentarily that due to security reasons there is no ‘phone number (or address) on the website. So I can’t check where we’re meeting him.

And I have to sort out final issues with the caterer, the florist, the invitations people and the music people. Thankfully I wrote everyone’s telephone number in a book dedicated to wedding stuff. But I can’t call from work because I’m paid by the hour and extremely busy.

And the stone in my engagement ring is loose, and needs to be sorted out.

And we’re trying to get hold of our terminally badly organised and incredibly slow management company to sort out an electrician (to come and re-install the light fittings which he removed because they needed to dry out) and to authorise a painter who came on Friday to quote to repaint three ceilings (which were only painted in the first place a couple of months ago), and I suspect their response time will be a couple of months, as it usually is unless they are hounded and hounded. Ideally I want this to all be sorted, painted, rewired, etc, before we go away on honeymoon. The idiots who live upstairs will probably flood the place again when we’re away, anyway.

I’ve got to go back for another dress fitting this week. On Friday I tried on my dress and they were pinning it everywhere. In the end they decided to redo the under-dress thing and therefore I need to go back again this week. So there I was, standing around whilst they were sewing it, and trying not to think of the time that was running out before my interview. And that's another half day off work!

The interview on Friday went ok. It was an hour and twenty minutes with two lawyers and the head of HR. Asking all kinds of technical questions – including about the company for whom I’m currently temping. Considering I’ve been here for about two weeks so far, and am a TEMP, I was surprised at the request for a summary of their business, but managed to give one anyway. When asked what percentage of my time has been spent drafting in each of my jobs (including my training contract which ended over four years ago), I felt a stabbing pain develop behind my right eye. Still, I've managed to give my feedback to the recruitment consultant, which is one thing off my list.

I mentioned the ‘phone theft to my brother. He made a good point – that the thief will probably only get about £20 for the handset (and it wasn’t in peak condition, having been thrown at walls and doors during its life), and that if the thief/ thiefette had said “look, I've got your 'phone but I’ll give you an option – either you give me £20 or I take your ‘phone” then I (and probably most people) would say “hell, take the cash”. It’s true. I have now lost all of my telephone numbers, and loads of text messages that I had saved for sentimental reasons.

Well, hey, at least the brick was over a year old and I was eligible for an upgrade. I went for the Samsung E900, and it will probably be waiting for me when I get to work on Wednesday morning. It’ll need to charge until sometime Thursday, and it’ll probably take me until Friday to work out how to use it. Still, I’ll bring in my old brick and bung the new SIM card in that, which should work, I reckon.

I've got to sort out a cleaner as well, but until then I'll be ironing and cleaning the flat. As predicted, whilst once every so often it's cathartic, it's now reached the point where I do not want to be farting around with dusters/ vacuum cleaner/ ironing boards/ bathroom cleaners.

My head feels like it’s full of bees. The only way to stop feeling like I'm on a downward spiral with tasks threatening to overwhelm me, is to actually do everything on my to do list this evening. So I might not be particularly early to bed tonight, but hopefully I'll stop having weird dreams.