This week I'm required to complete five pages of stuff all about my favourite subject: me. It's a little bit serious as what I write will determine whether I have a job in six weeks. I'm so serious about these five pages that I've been in serious avoidance since Friday morning, when aforesaid pages dropped so innocently into my in-tray.

In an effort not to have to think serious thoughts, this weekend I have mostly been drunk and out until late, sunbathing, sleeping, doing washing, filing my nails, buffing my forehead, dozing around with R, staring out of the window, looking for a Cinni fan (and finding the world's most frustrating game on the way), fruitfully surfing for new colours in Juicy Tubes, cleaning my flat, recycling all my papers and bottles, making way overdue phone calls, reading the papers, reading my book and looking for a present for my bro.

As Sunday is running out, it really is time to start taking myself seriously. Shudder.