My bluster can’t have been too convincing. After Dylan had gone, Dave’s head popped up over the fence as I was stooping to pick up some of Marvin’s disposable catheters, which were strewn across the garden. I must have been wearing the news like a bad perfume (Misery by L’Oréal – Because You’re Worthless) because he could sense something was not quite right. Gathering me up, with Martin and Marvin, we headed out to drink away the evening, raising our beers to freedom and defacing ten-pound notes in honour of whichever it was of the Queen’s birthdays.

Sunday April 22nd

I nursed my hangover through the day. I lay in bed watching marathon runners on the television stagger over a finish line dressed as sausages and cartoon ducks, as my hangover slept on beside me. I helped it rise in the early afternoon, bathed and swaddled it, until I gently removed its bandages and its dull ache was there no more.

The convalescence of the hours gave me space in which to think. What actually had I lost? I’d never been particularly happy at work; it was merely something I had fallen into, like an artificial lake, or a vat of sulphuric acid, and then neglected to hoist myself out. But now the reservoir was being dragged and my poor body – scarred and broken but still breathing – was being pulled out.

And I realised, as I reached into the fridge for some milk to accompany my twelfth cup of tea of the day, that this is my moment to do something I want to do, not what I need to do. As Dylan might say, ‘If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.’

I tore up my list of uninspirational quotes and threw them into the bin.

Monday April 23rd

It is Shakespeare’s birthday today, not that he’s in any condition to celebrate. Liz and I exchanged tweets about our favourite lines.

I can only remember three Shakespeare quotes – the ‘to be or not to be’ one, the one about the dagger and the one about all the world being a stage. But I found a helpful website with an extended list and I think I must have come across as rather erudite. All difficulties are easy when they are known.

The remaining six hours of my working day were spent in writing a poem. I have called it, ‘Thoughts Written on Turning Over an English Literature A Level Paper’.

It is the longest poem I have ever written. If I am actually expected to graft my way through these final few weeks of office life, then they have seriously misjudged me.

Question 1: ‘If we wish to know the force of human genius we should read Shakespeare.’ Do you share Hazlitt’s view of Shakespeare? Illustrate your answer with examples from his writing.