The final archaeological assault on my officle has begun: the sorting and emptying, re-filing and binning and the gradual emptying of my stationery stockpiles, which I smuggle home in the crevices of my clothing, whistling as I walk past the security guard in the evening, like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape with his pockets weighed down with sand.

Tuesday May 15th

During today’s excavation, I uncovered an old LP of Rogers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music which had fallen behind my filing cabinet, along with an old photograph of Dylan as a toddler walking hand in hand with Sophie and me, and a certificate to verify that I had passed my Intermediate Excel course. The record, I think, had been an old Secret Santa present from about ten years ago before the unbroken run of pine-scented candles kicked in.

I took it home with me. It was heavily scratched but somehow didn’t jump. I played it through three times, and studied the photo, until a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall told me it was time for bed.

Wednesday May 16th

My Favourite Words

Pipette and plectrum, obumbrate and flimsy,

Balderdash, spatchcock, flapdoodle and whimsy,

Obnubilation and nontrepreneur:

These are a few of my favourite words.

Sachet, humdudgeon, haboob, hurly-burly,

Scroddled and dottle, goluptious and surly,

Mumpsimus, tawdry, decumbent and blurb:

These are a few of my favourite words.

Susurrus, zephyr, rubescent, boondoggle,

Reboant, gaggle, hubris and hornswoggle,

Refulgent, plethora, plinth and perturb:

These are a few of my favourite words.

When the rose droops

When the branch snags

When I’m lachrymose

I simply remember my favourite words

And then I don’t feel morose.

I came close to popping the question to Liz today. But I got stuck on the thorny issue of venue. I gave it some more thought as I cracked on with the laundry. A quick mental run-through of my favourite things and potential topics of discussion – detective series, crosswords, custard creams, the cat – confirmed to me that any attempts at prolonged and free-flowing dialogue would be risky indeed. I needed a venue or destination which might serve as a foil or shield so I wouldn’t be subjected to the relentless pressure of having to make conversation.

I concluded that more thinking was needed before hanging my heart out on the line like a pair of tatty, well-worn underpants.

Thursday May 17th

Monopoly

They met at a beauty contest. She came first, he second.

They monopolised each other. Prosperity beckoned.

Chancers of the exchequer, they advanced straight to go.

These were the good times. How the money flowed!

Stock sales and dividends. A building loan matured.

Bank errors in their favour. An inheritance secured.

And every birthday – to celebrate the pleasure –

each of their friends would pay them a tenner.

They owned the streets. But it began to unwind.

Found drunk in a sports car. A small speeding fine.