I feel liminal. These decisions are the first I've ever really made for myself. I'm enormously drunk, and feeling like that line in the Larkin poem about being on the edge of an event: a precipice, people with gloves on, waving because they can't follow.

National Gallery, 'The Execution of Lady Jane Grey' has haunted this whole day, especially the blindfold and the axe-man, waiting to do his job. Also, the fact that you can walk into a building and see Sunflowers, 3millionpoundsworth of painting, just hanging on a wall. Never ceases to amaze. Culture is everything that we don't have to do: we need to find food, but inventing post-modernism was just life with bells on.

I have to pretend to be a respectable lawyer for a whole week. Ha! Honestly, I'd sooner employ the wonders of phonetics and lay claim to being a barista. Skinny latte, extra jurisprudence. Soy.

Scissor Sisters at the end of the month. Highfalutin' disco poofs, or tragi-glam purveyors of wrenching electro-glitter? I secretly opt for the latter. While I'm on/near the subject, don't watch 'House of Sand and Fog' and '21 Grams' as a double bill, because you'll feel like jumping off a (symbolic, portentous) bridge.

Luck, please.