This morning I strolled into work as pleased as punch, as I'd actually got in 25 minutes before my court was due to sit (rather than yesterday's impressive effort of five minutes after such a time...they waited for me, thank fuck), and went into the toilets to find a pristine policewoman's badge on the floor. And I opened it up and the photo was of a lady with long, dark hair...just like me.

I now totally want to write about how I ran amok the city of London arresting people for placing a postage stamp upside down on their letter, getting a fish drunk or eating a mince pie on Christmas Day (all true laws), but sadly no, I handed it in whilst hoping that the police officer it belonged to was not entrusted with guns, knives, small children or any other item that could quite easily be dropped on the floor and forgotten about at the drop of a hat.

Next, at lunch, I saw a cyclist get run into by a bus. At first I was concerned he was hurt, then I realised his only affliction was insurmountable rage, as he rat-a-tat-tatted on the windscreen, and hurled verbal abuse at the driver which cannot be repeated in a family-friendly diary such as this.

Now, my court was due to recommence this afternoon at 2.30, whereas everything usually starts up again at 2.00, so at around quarter past I was merrily milling around the office doing some quality fuck all, when one of my workmates came in and announced that his court had 'been shut down due to health and safety as the witness has TB!' What can you say to that, really?

What else is new? I finally, FINALLY passed my 180 words a minute speed test about a freaking year after I thought I was capable of it. Who would have thought typing three words a second was so difficult? I get to reap the rewards now, though - a slight pay rise and my own superpower character 'Speedyfingers' in the next series of Heroes. Oh how I wish.

I've completely run out of steam. I'll have to write about love, life and laughter next time. It's all I believe.

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