2004-06-23 - 12:29 p.m.

Ow. I went running and I think I hurt my legs. Teach me to engage in any kind of physical exercise. I thought we were meant to be in the future now? Do I have to be disappointed on a daily basis that there�s still no body-fat zapping pill that consigns jogging to the historical anomalies pages of the encyclopaedia where it so obviously belongs? What�s that? They�re called �lab strength amphetamines�? Oh, OK.

This month is largely office-based and on the one 24 hour respite that I did have, I had to jam in all my appointments, seeing people that might just save my career, which is floundering in much the same way as a herring might if you dropped it in a sandpit. It�s largely an exercise in self discipline, the self discipline you need if you�re not to find yourself in the toilets trying to rip your own face off in sheer humiliation, or trying to discipline yourself to go back to the dining table in some horribly overpriced gastro-pub where a sliver of potato costs a week�s wages, and not open up with a large semi-automatic weapon the next time someone says the words �really pushing the product� in a hail of justice-delivering lead raindrops that gouge the smugness right out of the jabbering troupe of gathered suits.

Predictably, I end up being �quite nice�. I nod, and smile, and look at their leaflets, and say I will be in touch. What I�d like to do, though, is try and roughly impale myself on a hastily-fashioned spike made from the crystallised asparagus spears canap�s right in front of them and see if for one minute it put them off their sales pitch, or whether they would still end up thrusting their business cards into my twitching, bloody hand.

Still, let�s hope something comes of it.