The mind’s a clever thing. I lost the power to think on Friday, such was the strength of my misery and as it happened, that is just what I needed. After 24 hours of being, doing and really not thinking very much at all, my mood is much improved.

The heavy and horrible emotions that have risen to the surface since I started my year-long mentoring programme are still there, but feel more like a ball a chain as opposed to full lead body armour.

I spent last night chomping my way through my Dad’s KitKat collection, which gave me the energy to scour Sussex for some nighttime catheter bags this morning. I almost kissed the chemist who had 30 of them in stock. ‘Don’t let anybody else buy those bags!’ I squealed down the phone. Yes, it’s got to the point where moment’s like this are a highlight.

I am back home now, worried about Dad, but almost certain he’ll be okay in the hands of the carers who come in twice a day. They’ll thank me for the catheter bags that’s for sure.

I have not managed to do much work at all this week. I paid a freelance to do a day’s worth for me, so clients have been serviced. Still, I will have to spend tomorrow working now as I’m in with the nuns on Monday for 24 hours of delicious silence.

I’ve just been online ordering gear for my podcasts. Yes, you heard it right, this blog is soon to come with podcasts – that’s if I get a handle on the technology. Anyway, there are adaptors, microphones, cans and all manner of gizmos on the way.

I’m going to start by interviewing Marion my spiritual mentor. I’ve spent decades interviewing celebrities and she is much more interesting than most of them I talked to. Trust me, fame does not make people fascinating!

Oh and before I go, if you ever find yourself in a flat mood, I can highly recommend Sex Education on Netflix. Bloody brilliant. It’s quite explicit and I was shocked to discover that both my 12 and 16 year old daughters have watched it. Yes, bad mother alert, I confess that I do not monitor what they view on their phones. Trust me, it was so much easier back in the 1970s.