I’m laying all the blame for what I'm about to tell you on the cat, if it's wasn't for her I'm sure it wouldn't have happened.

I was fast asleep in bed on Monday night, after being ill I felt zonked out and thought an earily night would do me good. It must have been about 11.30ish because Himself was still downstairs when I was woken up by a rustling noise. I’d put a load of carrier bags by the wardrobe with presents in, I haven’t got round to wrapping them all yet. I can’t stand wrapping presents, I’m OK for the first couple but quickly get board and look for excuses to do something else. At least I’ve finished shopping – I brought a couple of extra boxes of Thorntons because every year you can guarantee at least one person will give you something and you’ve forgotten them. A pre-wrapped box of chocolates comes in handy.

Anyway, the cat was exploring in the bags on the lookout, I imagine, for her present. Yes, very sad I know, but I do get the animals pressies and they do expect them. Our first spaniel was the worst, you couldn't put his present under the tree, he'd pinch it. Never touch anything else, just his own present. How he knew which was was his I don't know, it must have been the smell.

So I psssst-ed her away and turned over to go back to sleep. Ten minutes later she was back again. Grabbing one of Himself’s pillows, I waved it in her general direction, screamed 'Lucy' and she shot out of the door.

A few minutes after this Himself came upstairs to bed and decided to have a chat, by this time I was wide awake. Ten minutes later he was happily snoring for England and I of course, because I’d already had a nap, was staring at the ceiling. Do you think I could go back to sleep? I watched the clock ticking the minutes away. You know as you’re lying there that you’re going to have a hell of a game getting up in the morning, but the more you try to sleep the more illusive it becomes. I tried reading a book at about two o’clock and them it suddenly dawn on me that those fecking library books were no doubt overdue again.

I eventually must have fallen asleep at about 5.30, an hour before the alarm went off. I went through my normal morning routine and got into work about 8.45. Nothing unusual there, got on with the claim that was due, sorted out bits and pieces left over from the auditors visit, hit the roof when the server fell over again because of the electricians, which resulted in the lost of internet access for three hours. How the hell we managed before the internet is beyond me - everyone was moaning they couldn't work, why hadn't that really important e-mail arrived?

At about 11.00 I decided to have a break and stopped for 5 minutes. Stretching my legs out I glanced down at my feet. It was then I noticed I was wearing odd boots. One black, one brown. As well as being different colours & styles, they also had different sized heels, so I must have been walking around all morning with a slight limp and I’d not noticed. No one else had noticed either – and believe me if they had I would have known. They’d never had let such an ideal opportunity pass them by. So I spent the rest as the day limping around, because I really couldn’t be arsed to go home and change. I wear odd socks occasionally, so I don’t suppose that odd boots are much worse.