Dignity. Always dignity.

1. I wake up, don't take to it, so go back to sleep.

2. The next time I wake up it's better. I move to the bay window with the coffee and finish Pack Men by Alan Bisset. I only started it a few days ago right after finishing Coming Up For Air, which I absolutely loved so it was a tough gig, bookwise. I know Alan Bisset, and a whole load of the people he thanks in the back pages. I remember bumping in to him when he needed to finish this book. I can't believe I know people who write novels and finish actual novels. The fact that they write good novels, enjoyable stories that move me and make me laugh - well that really is something to behold.

3. It leaves a space that needs filled and despite the fact that I have reached pay day around five days ahead of when my bank and company expect it, I splurge at Oxfam. For £12 I add Daphne du Maurier, Saul Bellow, Peter Carey, David Nicholls and Kazuo Ishiguro to the library.

4. It's an ace day. The sun is out and I feel cool with my curled hair and sunglasses combination so for the second day in a row I have a lunch outside. It's peaceful here in Queens Park, quiet. I happily eat my baguette and browse my books. Cold creeps in and I head home, a star bar to hand, the fire on and Singing in the Rain starting in five minutes. Perfect.

5. Later as I come home, I notice a pair of rather cool chairs left out in the street amongst the debris and rubbish of a house clearance - as Colin would put it 'like a flat had just been sick'. They catch my eye and when I'm home I can't shake the feeling that they should be mine to re-cover. Like a thief in the night, marigolded and a bit giggly I steal out and bring them home. And now they sit in my hall waiting for what's next.