Some of you might remember my bunk beds from various video blogs. You might remember how many people asked me, "which one do you sleep in?"

Alas, there shall be no more of that. The beds have been dismantled.

I sit now in the ashes of my bedroom, an empty expanse where once there was a great wooden monument. The boxes that once hid underneath it now lie stacked next to me, awaiting their new home.

Because my sister's gone for good and my brother probably won't be far behind, the attic conversion that was first her room and then his is being turned into a generic guest bedroom.

For some unfathomable reason, this means I get the bed and matress from there and my precious fort is parcelled off to charity.

'Tis a sad day indeed. I marked the end of my 20th year by getting a job for the first time in my entire life; now I mark the beginning of my 21st by bringing a long-standing joke to an end.

No more "Kilbirnie is always on top."

... And that's it. Bunk beds gone, new/old bed in its place.

It's all over. You might, sniff, never hear from me, sob, again.