Keep buying. Dilute the sonofabitch. I want every orifice in his body flowing red.

This was originally going to be a grimly ironic post about the longest day (summer solstice, some three days ago), involving some sardonic humour about only getting three hours' sleep a night at present. Trouble is, I haven't had time to write it.

Next week requires me to do a month's work in the space of four days (albeit with a little assistance from a regional junior chimp) whilst the boss is on holiday, which I'm really looking forward to.

I find myself in the unusual position of being whatever the equivalent of 'triangulated' is for four items (squargulated? quadrangulated? Strangulated is perhaps the most apt) between no less than four powerful women at present - one who is covering for me on a project I can't spend any time on, one at the private equity house I'm working for, one who's standing in for the boss, and of course Mrs Chimp, who's less than delighted that I'm not home for 21 hours out of 24 at present.

The problem with powerful women is that they all need constant updates as to what I'm up to. I could easily fill the 35 hours (ha!) of my working week with progress meetings, to do lists and conference calls. Trouble is, I'd never get the work done.

And to top it all off, Gordon Brown will be running the country by the end of the week. Hating to tempt fate, can things get any worse?