Tuesday: Struggling to prioritise. Prepare presentation for Keira Knightley, who recently played goldfish lover in film, so as to sign her up as patron for GAG? Or delve deeper into charity finances to find out where chairman's personal £250,000 loan has gone and potentially get us in hot water in loans-for-peerages scandal?
Briefly and fruitlessly consult How To Get On In The Charity World by Simon Blabb for moral guidance, before convincing myself another viewing of Keira's Pride and Prejudice counts as work, so stay at home swooning.
Vorderman, Neanderthal flatmate, accuses me of acting like women who endlessly rerun Colin Firth as Mr Darcy in wet jodhpurs scene. Nonsense. Just at bit when Keira visits Pemberley, when phone rings. Keira's agent to name date - next Wednesday. Start frenzied examination of contents of wardrobe while rubbing in precautionary coating of Clearasil.
Wednesday: Had all but decided to shelve loans scandal enquiry when Frank from finance returns from two weeks' compassionate leave with new nose and tell-tale foundation overload to cover up bruising between eyes.
Retreat to examine own nasal hair in gents' mirror. Wondering if I need nostril wax to impress Keira when Frank bursts in and grabs my arm. "Have you called the commission?" he shrieks. Struggle to comprehend (and remove finger from nostril) when chairman David comes in and frogmarches Frank out, explaining that he's returned from sick leave too soon.
Thursday: Having trim in top West End salon - £100, and all proceeds go to new Triple B (Bold, Beautiful and Bald) Foundation set up by Bruce Forsyth - while trying to forget nagging questions on missing loan and concentrate instead on Keira. Frank now away indefinitely and David pointedly tells me he is taking care of finance.
Friday: Arrive at office after two-hour session in gym to find letter summoning me to meeting at Charity Commission. Time clashes with Keira meeting. Aagh.