For the first time in nearly fourteen years I find myself faced with the prospect of some kind of organized professional examination tomorrow. I have to stay in and revise and shit. WTF? Maybe, Cat Stevens was right after all.

Thank God for ice cream. Me, Ben and Jerry (or actually Ben, me and Jerry, I need to be in the middle of these kinds of things, no peripheral attention for me, no thank you) are staying in and doing threesomes all night. Which is big of me really, because I am pissed off with those guys. Their pistachos do not taste fresh.

So today I nipped into a swish SoFi apartment block, one of those apartment blocks with keen to please doormen, and one of the doormen has a job which consists solely of twirling the twirly doors. Wow, I thought, whilst all this is nice, I can't see that and not think about how many dollars of my christmas bonus that guy would have to get if I lived there.

How did I get so jaded? Is it because I have lived in New York too long? Maybe, but I think it has more to do with the fact that I have just lived too long. Way too long.

OK. Back to making illegible notes in margins.