Thursday, and it is one of those days where -with a regularity that is both startling and inevitable - nothing happens. Not that - these days - we are that keen on the unexpected, it does after all and almost by definition mean that some awkwardness is about to result from its intrusion.
Back when we were young, and able to get beyond page 37 of the Kama-Sutra without medical assistance, we used to long for days of excitement, glamour and full-frontal extreme rudeness. But, of course, it rarely, if ever happened, and with a phlegmatic pragmatism that seems somewhat lacking in the youngsters of the majority of post-war generations, we settled for a life of mundane tedium and extreme and exotic sexual perversions.
However, there are times - usually at those times of reverie when lubricating the weasels, or putting our local Post Office counter staff into the tupping restraints - when a life of glamour and excitement does seem quite appealing, even though we know deep down that it is all shallow and meaningless.