Lend Me A Tenner Towards My Zimmer Frame

This morning, as I crawl out of bed, L tells me that I look the worst I've ever looked. It's so good of your loved one to let you know these vital facts isn't it? Although, for some reason, she reckons I'll be looking awesome by Friday. That must be a different definition of the word 'awesome' to the one I’m aware of.

We get one of the new trendy buses today, leather seats and Wi-Fi, although still no Mango. Of course, most of the passengers have no use for something like Wi-Fi. Their chosen mode of communication is, as ever, the good old-fashioned mobile phone. Not that a lot of them even need that because they shout so loudly into their phones that I'm sure the person on the other end doesn't need a phone to hear them.

Once off the bus, I put my headphones on, and turn the Courteeners up to full volume, to drown out the duck noises that I assume everyone is making behind my back as I waddle from the bus stop to work. Hmmm, perhaps I'll take it easy on Thursday.

L's walked in too; she reckons the walk has done her good. I’m not sure I can say the same. I would lie on the floor here if I had the office to myself.

Celine Dion has scooped the accolade of the world's worst cover version. Her rendition of AC/DC's 'You Shook Me All Night Long' has been given the honours by Total Guitar magazine. Editor Stephen Lawson described Dion's cover as 'sacrilege'. The Sugarbabes and Girls Aloud ran her a close second by covering Aerosmith and Run DMC's 'Walk This Way'. Westlife came in third with Extreme's 'More Than Words', followed by Will Young with The Doors' 'Light My Fire' and The Mike Flowers Pops cover of Oasis' 'Wonderwall'.

Mark Ronson is rumoured to be gutted that, despite numerous attempts, he still didn't make the top five. Unfortunately, I imagine he'll keep trying.

The reason for taking the bus today was to rest my legs, so obviously I've missed a bike session but something else is wrong and I can't put my finger on it. Dog class has moved from 9pm to 8pm but when I get home I still seem to have time on my hands. Then I realise what's missing; my swimming! I haven't scheduled a swim. Damn.

I hobble off to dog class, where L is worried that I might embarrass the dog. Fairs fair, he’ll embarrass me with that smell.

Daughter is out when I get back, out celebrating her birthday, cinema and pizza. Entry to those 15 certificate films will be legal from now onwards. When she gets back, she kindly counts out her vast hoard of birthday money in front of us. I wonder if she'll lend me a tenner towards my zimmer frame?

I hope to persuade L to help an old man to bed. She's more than agreeable. The treasure.