I think I'm going to panic.

I don't have all my Christmas presents yet, which doesn't sound too bad on 12 Dec but with spending Christmas between two countries, it's disaster.

I don't have a Christmas tree. Not essential? Well, I've never had my own, and this year, I do want one. Because it's the first year I spend Christmas away from my parents, and I feel guilty, bad, uneasy, a monster, a cruel and uncaring daughter who's letting down her dad and condemns him to utter loneliness on the day that should really be about being all together as a family etc. Somehow I think the tree would make everything all right, the pain of being split between two countries, two families, two circles of friends, the people I love. But every time I stand in front of a tree longing to buy it, it doesn't fit on my bike.  

I want to see all my friends before Christmas. Some are almost already away to other countries, other are having lovely meetings. Problem: no time for making and writing cards, making nice presents and even less time for all those hated household chores. No time for baking cookies. I love cookie dough.

There are too many demos to go to, one for the right of asylum seekers to work, one against dawn raids, two events in a week for Amnesty, plus the usual meetings, which are now competing with work Christmas dinners. All of this in 10 days.

I haven't been at my PHP class for two weeks. I didn't have a clue before and surely won't have one now. I really have so much to do, should I just skive?

I'm starting a training course on teaching Adult Literacies and Numeracy in January, plus a course on PC maintenance, and a language school has asked me to do another evening class. All is important to me, but I can't do it all.

Gangland violence and vandalism, the effects on communities of drugs, alcohol and despair in Glasgow, the ever more restrictive asylum legislation as well as the inhuman face of immigration are doing my head in. At work, I see myself forced to campaign for better funding to get relevant ESOL provision established. It's like knocking your  head in against the four walls of a box room, you try to get out on all four sides, but your head is more likely to get smashed to jelly than the four walls you're trying to get through.

Tom Harris MP has given up on me - sent me a leaflet to come to his surgery, while he's now having to face the Scottish Voluntary Sector for his remarks that the Scottish Executive should review its funding policy for Positive Action in Housing, a voluntary sector, Black and Minority Ethnic, housing organisation who also took the lead in the campaign against dawn raids. It's rightly caused an outcry because funders should not determine the policies and activities of a voluntary organisation, so the SCVO is on his back now - makes Dr Steffi look less important so no more annoying letters before Christmas. I wonder, shall I send him a card?

I'm also getting married. Strangely, I'm not really panicking about that, although I thought I would by now.

I feel like someone has taken my brain and put it into a tumble drier. I can't think straight, make mistakes, forget stuff. Am I losing it? Probably not. Just the usual story of trying to juggle work, commitments, family life and personal space. Nothing special, just another heart attack candidate.