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So, last night I went on a date. When I got home, I was a little bit tipsy, and I signed into an online London forum to which I contribute occasionally. Someone had written a very amusing anecdote about an alcohol-fuelled incident that had occurred during their evening. Being a generous soul, I thought I should share my experience, so I wrote the following: "I am also drunk. I went on a date with a guy who I will not be seeing again. He reminded me, in almost every way, of Michael Portillo. The way in which he did not remind me of Michael Portillo is that there is a tiny, dark, dark, dark portion of my mind that somehow tricks the rest of me into thinking that, if he were the last man on earth, I might briefly fancy Michael Portillo. The guy tonight didn’t have that quality."

On reflection, this seems a little unfair. Last night's date didn't remind me that much of Michael Portillo. He's not a politician, for a start. And we did have a nice time, although the conversation was rather more intense than I'd like. But... I don't think there was any chemistry really. And more importantly, he plays a lot of golf, which is a deal-breaker if ever I know one. Finally: he doesn't like cheese. Who doesn't like cheese, for goodness' sake?! The idea of forming a meaningful relationship with someone who won't lie in front of the TV with me on a Sunday afternoon gently moaning about how incredible it would be to have some garlic mozzarella bread brought to us by a teenager on a moped is risible.

So - that was Thursday. And now it's nearly the weekend. I am moments away from heading towards TopShop on Oxford Street, where I will meet Emily. Then we'll meet two others for tapas in Shepherd's Market. Then we'll go to see the new Bond film. Exciting. Tomorrow and Sunday I will be attending this which was brilliant when I went last year. And tomorrow night I'm going to have fun in a bar in Westbourne Grove with a few friends. It's all go - I'm already exhausted after a busy week and don't quite know where I'll find the energy. But as dad says, we'll be dead a long time. Happy days.