That was the day the bottom fell out of my world, or the roof fell in, depending on whether you are looking up or down. Life is all about perspectives they say, and the only perspective I had after receiving that e-mail was the dark service stairs at the radio station alternating with the privacy of the bathroom cubicle where I single-handledy snotted my way through two whole rolls of toilet paper.

I remember slamming the Macbook down after reading the words that indicated that I had been officially and unceremoniously dumped by someone who incidentally also turned out to be 5 years older than I thought. Dumped initially by text message followed by e-mail confirmation, undoubtedly the height of communication for the multimedia hack that I am.

Never underestimate the power of words.

I hid, I cried, I wasted bog roll, I drank tea, I smoked, I exercised the buttock muscles by walking manically up and down the service stairs, I fixed my face and I went back to bashing the keyboard until whatever copy needed to be filed for the day was filed.

And in the middle of all this, it occurred to me that I wasn't ready to take any of this lying down, without any right to reply. In the absence of any stationery, I went to the recycle bin and pulled out a passable piece of corporate A4 onto which I poured out my guts, factually.

I then walked up to the mall, purchased a bunch of flowers and headed for the TV station downtown, walking inside the building with my head up high, all flowery and determined.

There were many surprised faces at the redhead fury silently gliding up the stairs but I kept going until I reached the newsroom and the desk I was looking for, empty as I expected.

I deposited the flowers and attached the note to them. He walked in, I walked out.

When I got home and undresssed, an animal smell invaded the room. This was the smell of fear masquerading as human sweat.

Fear reeks.

Less than 24 hours later,  we were still reeling from the backlash of the previous day's emotions. But we did overcome.

That story has been filed.

And he's 42, but I do love him.

There are advantages to living apart from the object of one's affection, primarily when it comes to personal grooming. This is where unkempt comes in, but unkempt in a creative, purposeful way.

Unless groping is scheduled and there is the absolute certainty no one is going to share your bed that night and therefore accidently discover that the drapes do not actually match the carpet, why waste time, effort and money in daily depilating rituals?

In fact, this novel personal insulation method might just save you money, always a bonus in this time of so-called "crisis".

Unless of course you happen to live on a tropical island rather than a humid floating rock slap bang in the middle of the Atlantic, winter inevitably means opaque tights. Under trousers. To keep warm.

I've discovered that the same insulation effect can be achieved with fuzzy pins, but this will require dedication. One razor-free day won't keep you cosy, but your thermal resistance will increase progressively with each day the razor stays put.

So here's how to increase the tog rating of your legs, other body parts are up to you, although I must confess to keeping my pits smooth because a bird's nest down there just offend my sense of aesthetics.

To digress back to the climatic conditions proper to the rock I live on, I did initially think of growing mould rather than body hair to keep warm but the sanitary implications of such an endeavour put me off. I may have wobbly bits, but I don't fancy becoming a human petri dish - mould is the stuff lesser worn clothes clothes grow quietly in the wardrobe, bestowing upon you that unique cellar whiff when you eventually wear them.

So here's to the inner Hairy Mary in each of us, occasional or otherwise... enjoy the winter season and do keep warm, whichever way you choose!