15 hours

10.30pm - prepare for eight blissful hours in the arms of Morpheus.

10.55pm: woken by dog barking its head off. Go downstairs. Try to relax dog with kindly words. Return to bed.

11pm: dog starts barking again, if anything more frantic and desperate than before. Go downstairs. See if dog wants wee. Dog barks shrilly outside. Fear lynching from neighbours. Grab dog and haul indoors. Put dog to bed in very firm tones.

11.10pm - 11.59: listen to husband's signature Nocturnal Symphony with variations. Consider homicide, or moving into spare bed.

12.01: move into spare bed. Sleep fitfully. Too cold. Keep lying on knot of dressing gown cord.

6.39am: face of spouse swims into view. He appears to be dressed. Find out his car won't start and he needs to be at Market Harborough station for 07.10 train.

7.20am Arrive home, call RAC. Shower. Unload dishwasher. Break dip bowl. Sweep up shards before dog eats them.

9.00: RAC man says will have to take car to Dealership. Have only driven car once before, but no option. 18 miles in torrential rain with every f***ing cattle grid underwater.

9.50: Counsel RAC man over layabout brother in law.

10.10: Return home to overexcited and full-of-beans dog. Wonder if it is too early for a nap, or gin.

12.40: Demented squawking is overheard. Swallow flying around bedroom. Have a bit of a thing about birds.

12.42: Attempts to rescue swallow (while maintaining stance of hostage in bank robbery) result in it getting stuck in the sash window.

12.45: Traipse around village looking for someone to help. Can't find anyone suitable.

12.55: Gird loins, think logically, free bird. Run screaming from room feeling like Tippi Hedren.

1.10: Swallow still hasn't found open window. Curse same. Ring father for sympathy.

2.00: Bedroom seems quiet, if a bit soiled. Do some work and await next disaster.