So, yeah. Woke up at six minutes past 8 and needed to be on the 8.27 train. I don't know HOW but I made it.

Rather than my usual getting ready routine which takes an hour, I had time only to remove last night's clothes and coat, put on clean undies and work clothes, brush my teeth and put in one contact lense (one - WTF?? I didn't realise until I got to London) and have my stepdad hotfoot it to the station.

Never again. Well, maybe next year.

I even managed to get a taxi home with my brother - who was trying to persuade me to walk! - last night even though he'd got the train before me, as he kindly waited for me.

I had a weird prophecy yesterday, which I told to my workmates, that my brother would most likely pretend to be someone famous in order to gatecrash a celeb bash and drink loads of whisky cocktails.

And that is exactly what he did - attending some BBC thingy, sitting on the next table over from Kylie and Paul McCartney. I scoffed until he showed me several photos: 'Oh and here's me with David Tennant and Ricky Wilson [Kaiser Chiefs], only David Tennant thought *I* was Ricky Wilson!'

I feel like fucking shite. Sadly I am due back in court in 15 minutes.

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