It's ups and downs, ups and downs.

So, the first week of the new year. It started off badly enough then went mostly downhill from there. The first two days back at work were thirteen-hour marathons devoted to answering a battery of near-identical, mostly redundant and wholly irritating questions from our esteemed Japanese customers.

Midway through the second fruitless day, I got a phone call from the RAC engineer who had just finished inspecting the Porsche 924 I'd seen in a local garage.

It turned out that the fuel tank (£250) was close to death; the transmission (£545 and up for a rebuild) was leaking oil and was quite possibly fundamentally shafted; the engine (£80 for the relevant seals) had multiple oil leaks and the brakes were in dire need of attention. Oh, and the fuel accumulator (£80) was rusty. If I hadn't rammed a tree because of failing brakes, ground the engine and transmission into expensive mechanical paste or had the fuel tank fall out, there was still the exciting possibility that the thing might catch fire at any moment.

Most seriously of all, the horn went off at random times and really made you look like an idiot.

I decided, on reflection, that I wanted neither to burn to death nor appear to other motorists to be the sort of twit that uses the horn instead of the brakes and so I chose not to buy the car.

On Thursday evening I decided to play a bit of GT4 to take the edge off the disappointment of missing out on the 924. I won a few races, bought a few imaginary cars and accidentally turned off the PS2 before it had finished saving my (four months in the playing) game. I turned it on again, and the save was corrupted. Sweet! Way to go, self.

Then, on Friday morning, having gotten up and ready by 8.30 for a 9 am meeting, I left the flat to find that my bike had been nicked from the stairwell.

That pretty much capped an all-round bastard of a week.

I got to the meeting, bluffed my way through it and avoided everyone until it was time to go home. On the way back, I dropped past the old flat in the hope of a restorative cup of tea and somehow ended up staying for an accidental but fantastic dinner. I went out with Sam for a few jars after that and pretty much rinsed and repeated for the next two nights: an epicurean feast at the old flat followed by some light boozing with a thoroughly nice bunch of people.

Jez then sold me his disused but excellent bike for £50 on Sunday.

Thank God for friends, food and wine!