"Hello, Philip Schofield. I f**k lobsters for money."

[exterminezvous]

I have a lovely happy place to escape to when things are driving me mad. I picture myself on a walk along a steep hillside by the sea, in a place which feels like the Devon or Cornish coast. There's barely a cloud in the blue sky. There's a slight breeze, which ruffles the long, green grass on the hill. Little wild flowers speckle the hillside with dots of pale pink, indigo and white. The hill overlooks a beach with pale sands and below is the only person I can see - a man walking a dog, who enthusiastically gambols about the beach, here and there, here and there, after a branch and after the waves. The sea is a deep royal blue. I can feel the sun baking my shoulders and my back. It's glorious and I'm content and happy.

Memo to self: Use above happy place. Go to happy place and count to ten. If you let the frustration show at work and if you can't learn to bite your tongue, you're going to land yourself in trouble. Love, me. PS - Don't forget to buy Flash Surface Wipes. The lemon-scented ones. xx