I'm writing Christmas cards to try and clear my desk before getting stuck in to the overdue articles when the phone rings. It's Helen from the community cafe: she's desperate; can I help for an hour over lunchtime?
My head says, 'No, I'm far too busy.'
My heart says, 'She's really needs help.'
My mouth says, 'Yes.'
Alun is going to give me lessons in saying no. His assertiveness training worked quite well; I boss him now.
So I replan my day.
I'll walk George, shower, help at the cafe, write some articles - oops, no, I'll go to the prison, then I'll write ... no, I'll have to go to Tesco's to get some food ... but then I'll write - no, I'll cook dinner before going to Zac's. Ah, well, there's always tomorrow. But first I want a drink of water.
In the kitchen I turn on the tap: no water comes out. 'What on earth ... oh, fiddle, they're turning off our supply today.' Oh, pooper-scoopers! So plan is changed again to include a trip to Linden to use the - manky - shower there.
I'm getting undressed and allowing the shower to warm up when I notice water on the floor. Whoops! The showerhead is pointing outwards. Still it's only a little flood.
I get the feeling it's going to be one of those days.