Morrisons must have a proper PR agency working for them (serious boys in suits, floppy haircuts, directors that talk about paradigm shifts). We Puff & Fluff girlies wouldn’t have had the balls to present 800,000 extra shoppers a week, but only a 0.7% sales increase, as positive. Cue more City spinning as the week, and the results, limped on.

It’s January, so there’s no refuge in the bottle. Indeed my colleague and friend in adversity Miranda was amazed to find herself on the right side of medical advice for a minute or two. “I can manage two hours a day without a glass of wine,” she proclaimed triumphantly as some BMA drone piped up on the radio. Two days a week could prove a bit more of a challenge.

While we’re on misunderstandings, there was the occasion when Karoline (with a K) took a brief from the British Association of Shopfitters, but misheard the organisation’s name. Her proposal included a Hall of Fame featuring Stuart Hall (acquitted, sausages), Tracy Shaw (“absent mindedness”, strawberries) and Richard Madeley (acquitted, Champagne). To that list she could now add the loathsome Wozza (no excuse, cheese and wine). Anyhow, the shopfitters had to endure one more presentation, this time for shirtlifters, before she got it right.

After Mr P torched his c-store last year during the riots in an inspired piece of insurance opportunism, we’ve been reduced to using the local Tesco Express for our chocolate fixes. The joke that “express is just the name of the shop” is all too true. That’s if you can even get into a store barely navigable for stacks of unsold Christmas goodies. Even at half price. OK, Morrisons, I take it back. It was a triumph.