I stroked my cat some more. My lovely cat; she deserved it. Liz and I seem to have a lot of things in common: cats, poems, poems about cats . . . maybe other things, too. I wonder if she likes custard creams.

Monday April 16th

I know I should be working but there are far more interesting things to be doing on my phone. The list of untackled work tasks piles up gently and un-urgently and no one seems to mind. Instead there were more conversations to be had with Liz. It turns out that she’s a freelance copy-editor and proofreader; that probably explains why she has already corrected my grammar twice today.

I picked up the crossword for the first time in a while this evening. As is often the way, I got an answer almost instantly. 22 across:

CALLIPYGOUS (adj.): having beautiful buttocks.

Tuesday April 17th

A Modern Romance

Liz tells me that Wuthering Heights is one of her favourite books; she loves the wildness, darkness and windsweptness of it all. I told her how much I love it, too, as my copy, with its many pristine, unturned pages, gave me withering looks from my bedside table.

Wednesday April 18th

I have been thinking about how I might become a little more Heathcliff and a little less Brian.

It seems unlikely – given Liz’s description of him – that Heathcliff would be content to spend his days sitting in an officle, wrestling with Microsoft Excel. Although there are few opportunities for wildness and ruggedness at work, I did my best, rearranging my paper clips carefully into an unruly pile, scrunching up old memos and lobbing them at the wastepaper basket and signing off on my emails simply as ‘B’, with no preceding valedictions of ‘best wishes’ or ‘many thanks’ or anything.

I’ve also decided to stop shaving for a while.

Thursday April 19th

I stared darkly out of the window for long spells this morning before being gruff to Pat in the servery, when ordering my quinoa salad with mint and mango. I’m sure she deliberately short-changed me with my side helping of lentil crisps as a result. I thought about this at some length this afternoon, while staring darkly out of the window.

Friday April 20th

Blitzkrieg Top

When I put on my Ramones T-shirt,

with its presidential seal of rebellion,

I can almost smell the revolution

in the air.

I like to wear it everywhere:

down the match or shopping mall,

on the golf course, in the gym, or

in Costa

where I sometimes sit and watch the

protest marches go past the window,

whilst sipping on my frappuccino.