Monday started with a mouse in the office. I thought I was hallucinating - that’s certainly happened before. Once I looked up to see a bird flying straight into my face, and it was only once the flapping had subsided (me, not the bird) that I realised there was nothing there.

But there was definitely a mouse in the office. I could tell it was real because I was suddenly several metres away from where I’d seen it and had shrieked “JESUS!” in an embarrassingly girly pitch (note to self - must work on exclamations: is questionable for a pagan to use the name of the son of the Christian God as an indication of incredulity).

My boss suggested we just try not to leave any crumbs anywhere, and to keep quiet about it. I agreed with one of these suggestions.

I then spent the afternoon in Superdrug trying on every different aftershave I could find and spraying it on just about every centimetre squared patch of skin on my upper body. Aside form looking a little something like a cheap bastard preparing for his first date, it was all a little pointless really, as after three or four sniffs my nasal cavities had already gone into Estate Agent Alert Mode and had swollen to prevent further inhalation of potentially poisonous gases. That said, by the time I got back to the office I smelt lovely, wearing the scent of just about every drunken attempt at seduction from my teenage years.

I ended up buying a Calvin Klein thing – Escape I think it was, and went back out to buy a Hugo Boss one – I can’t remember what it’s called but it smells all bergamotty and orangey, and I used to wear it when I was about 19. It’s quite musky though – I like heavy musky aftershaves. Most of the ones I tried on in Superdrug just smelt like a little gay citrus fruit had farted on my arm.

I then celebrated smelling nice by going out and spending more money on a new diary and the Back To The Future trilogy. This foolish expenditure (for someone facing looming unemployment) is all a down payment on guilt. I have decided to take part in the fabulous Christian festival of Lent this year, and will be giving up the fags and the booze. I managed to work some smallprint into the contract that allows me to drink wine occasionally, but this is just a reprieve. If Jesus asks to see my membership card I’ll just dress as a prostitute and ask to be saved.

Christianity will make me a healthy person.