Back to work today via the quack. Trotted out my bestiary of minor ailments, and I'll have to go for a routine blood test tomorrow. As expected the lump in my arm was not dodgy but it's nice to have a bona fide quack say that.

Taking a more dispassionate view of work today, which is my new policy. I had a water-and-food-only lunch with Michel at the Riverside. Black pasta and crayfish. Very nice. Michel has sent off to the States for a fuel injection system for his pimpmobile. Nice. Also told me how the delightful Eva was decorating at the weekend at their flat and shortly after the roof caved in due to a burst pipe above.

After lunch I called the estate agent and made my offer on the property I saw at the weekend. Second time around it seems somewhat unreal, and as she hasn't got back to me I've no idea what has happened.

Then I stepped into a time machine where, on disembarking at the very desk I had been sitting at, had conversations about starting sentences with conjunctions and why contractions are okay in junk mail. Ye Gods.

Walked home after work along the river. Sat in the evening sun in St Peter's Square talking to Maddog on my mobile. Very pleasant, and I am feeling quite cheerful.