Saturday 31st October- HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEN!!

This week, I plummeted new depths of professional misery when I was sent to review an eco pod in a Milton Keynes field. The pod had supposedly been insulated in sheep's wool to keep it cosy. Clearly, this sheep's diet was lacking a good dose of Vitamin E. I was bloody freezing all night and as there was no electricity- it being an eco pod and all- I had no choice but to go to bed at 8pm.

I suppose it might have helped matters if I'd brought a sleeping bag or torch but it's been a while since my childhood days of camping en familie and I'm a bit out of practice. A colleague expressed incredulity at my ill-preparedness. 'How can you not have a head torch?' she sneered.

Oh, I'm sorry. When moving to the media capital of the world last year to pursue a career as a hard-nosed journalist, a head torch didn't immediately spring to mind as one of the essential tools of the trade.

I returned to the office the next day, sans shower, and grumpy from my night of insomnia, then it was straight to my evening job as a restaurant critic. Thankfully, my latest review was a champagne and oyster bar, the latter, conveniently disguising the scent of unwashed flesh. I polished off a bottle and a half of wine, which cured me of my chronic fatigue and now I sit here perky, clean and ready for an evening of Halloween gaiety.

Thinking of dressing up as a camper. Ah, but you'd need a head torch for that, wouldn't you? Dammit. I knew it was a useful piece of equipment.