Remember this post from less than a month ago? Well, I'm glad I wrote that down, because it's nice to be reminded I can get things done, now we're trying to move in at the other end.

I need to buy stuff, but I don't know where to shop. I need help with things, but I don't know who to call. I try to arrange things, but my messages disappear without response and my efforts feel empty and useless, without weight or consequence. Often, I can smooth my path with cash, but decide to endure petty frustrations so our money can be saved for IVF and calming treats, like icecream sandwiches which are made, ok, by hacking off a slab of icecream with a cleaver and putting it between two slices of bread. Yummy. In case this sounds whack, don't worry - icecream comes in such flavours as peanut butter, creamed corn and bean - all perfectly normal sandwich ingredients.

So there I was, eating a black-sesame-seed-flavoured icecream sandwich and thinking about tossing it all in and going back to the flat to nap on our single - sorry "twin" - airmattress* in order to free it up so Mr Bea can have a turn by himself for a few hours overnight (hardworking breadwinner that he is), when I was approached by one of the many, many tin-waving volunteers of Singapore, this time collecting for HOME.

HOME is the Humanitarian Organisation for Migration Economics. They provide training, financial and legal aid, and support for low-paid and unskilled migrants. For the people who can't smooth their paths with cash, or calm themselves with icecream treats, or even gain access to basic housing or medical care in a country whose systems are as mystifyingly foreign to them as they are to me. For those whose language problems extend beyond the misuse of the word "twin"**. For those who are facing the same problems I am, but magnified a hundred times over by poverty and lack of choice.

How could I not? I gave them some cash. I hope it helps someone sleep better tonight.


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*We bought a queen-sized bed second-hand last week. But we've had trouble getting it delivered. Two delivery drivers and a self-drive option have fallen through. Meanwhile, I went to buy an airmattress, and ended up with a "twin" which is actually a single and has become something of a running joke. Just as well it isn't, as I was assured, big enough for two people because the only pump I could find to blow it up with is an itty bitty bicycle pump. It took me nearly three hours to get it inflated. (I had to stop every now and then to recoup my strength and attention span.)

Fingers crossed for driver number three (delivery option number four) this Sunday. Looking forward to a proper night's sleep, and the end of our nine-day bed-buying epic. Next item: chairs. Stay tuned.

**And yes, it has been pointed out to me that "twin" is singular, and that twins, in real life, are ordinary-sized people. It's a SINGLE bloody air mattress. That's what it is. That's what it should be called.