Starting, your ex has got more to answer for than he knows. First I send DH off with a flea in his ear this morning (final words: "I'm not your bloody mother!"), then I read that poor Wrongbow has had a nightmare, and now I'm just back from a funeral where I turned up inappropriately dressed, which I'm blaming him for entirely.
I'd put out a black and cobalt jacket as suitable funeral wear, but when I went to put it on I was so busy dwelling on his horridness that I'd forgotten where I was going. I looked out of the window, saw the sun and thought, 'I'm not wearing that on such a glorious day.' Instead I chose a pale mint coat I'd bought from Oasis in the January sale, looked in the mirror, said, "God, Rox, you're gorgeous 
" and left. Halfway there it suddenly dawned on me where it was I was going, but it was too late.
People are more relaxed about dress these days, but this one was like a mafia funeral - a sea of the blackest black! Apart from me bobbing about like a plastic bath-toy.
The sooner this is over and you have a lovely new life to look forward to, the better for the sanity of all of us!
Sorry for the levity, but it just shows how much we've become attached to you. I'm usually a cynical, distant type!