For some awful reason, the last month or so, I've become an avid worrier.

Whether it's my number on worry of money because my job may not be renewed in September, getting the DIY jobs in the house done or even second guessing myself on choices already made, each night I seem to wake in the night in a slight cold sweat. Last night was no exception...

It's probably because Girlpants and I spoke about when I should leave work - the outcome is leave it as long as viably possible mainly for the money but also to allow for handover of work. When finally winning some of the duvet back from the thief that is Girlpants, and I finally managed to settle down, I started to dream that it was August already, that I had just left work and was finally starting to relax around the house. And right at that moment, just like a nasty cold virus at the weekend, the cramps started, with the occassional twinge at regular intervals as you do.

Needless to say, Girlpants treated it like a conference and took it all in his stride, even stopping to make me a name badge. For some readon the character Kyle from Southpark needed to be strapped into his car seat which was a maxi cosi - the best on the market don't you know... before we set off to try and make our way to the local hospital via the quickest route possible. Which didn't really work as meanwhile, all the cars around me were going slow whereas the buses were ready to take everyone out. And everywhere around me was roadworks with the obligatory rather large road workers with trousers halfway down their bums, using huge evil drills to take up huge crevices of tarmac, revealing all underneath.

I dreamt that bump was not too large but I still managed to make it to the hospital and give birth in 4minutes 35seconds. Even with the length of it's tail which refused to break off. Slowly, I realised that mini-hd looked remarkably like a cat.

And in the background, I could hear a constant drilling, whilst Sir Alan Sugar then walked in and yelling at me that I was fired.

And as I woke up in a cold sheen of sweat, reaching for a glass of water, I came to the realisation that I really really do hate the dentist.

There's a new terrorist group folks. More extreme than the Judean Peoples Front or even the People's Front of Judea, and scarily enough, they're just across the bridge.

The Cornish National Liberation Army (CNLA) has raised it's profile for Cornish independence by threatening to firebomb Jamie Oliver and Rick Stein for alienating the local people. After all, it's not like they don't hire local people in jobs nor bring tourists to the county do they?? As celebrity chefs, they must have caused war, world hunger, made local house prices sky rocket as well as the price of cream teas. And to retaliate, they are now also threatening second home owners within the county (which admittedly they have a point on as the locals can no longer afford homes in their own home towns) as well as Anglo-Saxons who have moved in 1500 years ago, occupied thier lands and taken their women, cider and money!

A sympathetic Free Kernow wrote on the Free Moon Forum

"Cornwall is OCCUPIED by the English and has been since about 1536... Now since the war they have FLOODED into Cornwall. A definition of war crime is replacing an occupied people's land with the occupiers own people - that is what is happening in Cornwall, Scotland and Wales and happened in Northern Ireland. Interesting you can see some parallels -what is Cornwall except the Gaza of the indigenous Britons? STOP THE CORNISH GENOCIDE!"

Now now, Free Kernow. We all know your real name is Reg and you're 14 with a slight pimple problem...

Admittedly, Cornwall is if not the most, then amongst the most deprived areas within the UK. The local businesses depend on seasonal tourism and with out of towners snapping up old farmland, seaside and country homes whilst not living in the area, there's no real stream of money coming in whilst local people can't even afford to buy flats let alone houses. As businesses, they have to try and compete with Big Ears who incidently doesn't pay Capital Gains tax and Corporation tax but posted profits of £14 million last year. The GDP is 62% of the national average and Cornwall is one of four UK areas that qualifies for poverty-related grants from the EU (European Social Fund).

Now, I'm not claiming Free Kernow is a member of the CNLA. But he does share some of their sentiment for independence and probably helps to spray paint the Kernow flag on any English heritage signs near the motorways. But I would like to make two points to readers who are members of the CNLA who sent the email to the Western Morning News this morning.

1. Surely your name should be the Kernow National Liberation Army?
2. And your email was written in English...

Why is it the first couple of days back at work always drag? It's been so difficult to get out of a nice warm bed and make my way to eight hours of tedium. Plus the fact that I was ill on the last two days before Christmas basically means that I need to make up hours for which I have have already been paid for. How depressing is that?

Or maybe it's the fact that your Christmas decorations look a tad gaudy after the fact - I know some people who took them down on new years day, whereas until today, our uber-trendy fiber optic tree flickered in the background and the Christmas wreath keeping me awake in the a scraping against the front door with the storms and winds that have been plaguing us on the foot of the isle. We eventually took down the decorations in work on Thursday as it distracted us all from the thousand and thousands of student paper records that had to be sorted and alphabetasized. And whilst the fairy lights are still up, the tinsel is in a sorry mass in the corner of the room, taking up dust and looking half shaved as the sellotape had inevitably ripped off the tin in chunks and sections.

I love the continent. I love mainland Europe. It has taken a bit of time to get used to the funny keyboards and laid back lifestyles, but slowly and surely, halfway through the week, I think that I may have got it sussed.

Take yesterday for example - besides wilting in the impossible heat that only a sun-a'holic cat would adore, Girlpants and I managed to shop, pack and head to the station in good time for our train. Cue small family run café next to the train station and two orders of coke and croque monsieur, and 50 minutes later, we had missed two trains and moved onto new drinks. It wasn't until after I had launched into a full minute of ranting about of the time it takes to grill a cheese and ham toastie sarnie, that I realised that this is the life over here. You don't have to rush to catch that all important train as they have bloody good train services over here (unlike the UK) and looking at life, there was more to life than schedules. Relax, eat your meal as each moment counts. In the end, we only got into Antwerpt 30 mins after we had planned, sauntered down to the river, looked around, relaxed in hotel and then went for a curry, which was, lets face it, a daft idea given the heat.

But then again, if you're on the continent, you have the great mainland lifestyle of cold beers sipped in a civil manner, until the wee hours of the morn....

After a walking tour of the city and a beautiful, delicious and romantic meal overshadowed by the town hall, we went back to the hotel bar for a night cap. And were joined by a fellow Brit, who after 20 minutes, thought it would be good to share.

Random Man in hotel bar - My ex-brother in law is in jail for paedophilia.

So, how do you follow that one...??