Scrabbling around for my 'Superpower Inventionism in the Middle East' course guide, thinking: "Damn, I hope I didn't send it to Meghan in her Mystery Package."

Fortunately, I didn't. It was just hiding under the chair with my Empire Magazine collection, and assorted other intellectual junk.

I am having weird, weird, weird dreams these days, and would very much appreciate it if my subconscious would just stop now, thank you very much.

But I made a princess, and she married the Prince, and lived disgustingly happily ever after. So see, I am a good mother after all.

Now I'm going to shoot my Snoopy in the head with sucker gun.