Update

I read online today that being green is a truly unselfish act. I thought about that for a while this afternoon. I've long held the opinion that there's no such thing as a selfless act - but [it's difficult to type as I have my hands on my head at the moment. I don't know who that blonde girl is in The Apprentice, but she has to die] this gentleman was saying that, since none of us will see the results of our efforts to recycle or fly less, it would be hard to argue that there's a selfish element. But you know me, I'd argue that [ohmygod, I actually can't watch, this is agonising] night is day, black is white or that cellulite is a turn-on. And I'd say that Doing The Right Thing, even if there is no discernible benefit at the time, is always selfish, because it makes you feel good about yourself. And on that basis, I'm back to my first claim that there is no such thing as a selfless act. I'll let you know if that changes.

Back to today. I couldn't resist beaking in to the Bank area at lunchtime and I'm disappointed to report, I couldn't see anything much at all. Lots of happy, smiling people and happy, smiling coppers, with a lot of drummers drumming. It was a bit like the Notting Hill Carnival but without as much marijuana in the air or empty beer cans on the floor. What did strike me was that, for every protester, there were about 487 people taking photographs. I've never seen so many cameras, it was quite extraordinary. The media presence these days is absolutely gobsmacking. I went back to the office with a spring in my step, and was able to watch the drama unfold throughout the afternoon on Sky News, read about it on the Guardian's online site and a couple of news blogs, got second-by-second updates from Twitter feeds and saw photos uploaded just moments after they'd been taken. It was something else. Regardless, I stand by my earlier confusion that I think the protests were largely pointless and won't change anything. But I'd love to be proved wrong.

[Sir Alan's fired the wrong person twice now. Ah well. No one with an IQ above double figures switches on The Apprentice thinking their blood won't reach boiling point].

In other news, I went out for dinner with Justin last night and drank far too much wine. And then had half a pint in a pub. It was a very fun night and I have no regrets, but times aren't unmitigatingly happy at the moment, and gals like me would be advised to steer clear of that popular depressant, alcohol. So tonight when I met up with Tracey, I resolved to be good. I had a virgin strawberry daquiri in Gordon Ramsay's hotel bar in Camden, and then a single glass of house white in the pub where we ate dinner. I was feeling so pleased with my self-restraint that I came home and ate a mini Caramel, then a yoghurt, then a mini finger of Fudge and then a mini Curly-Wurly. Fear and self-loathing in SE London. Growl.