So what did you do for the bank holiday?

Did you sit around in the sunshine grilling dead animals on an open fire, did you consume half your own body weight in lager, did you strive to make the world a better place?

If you were me, and let’s be honest you’re all glad your not, then you’d wake stupidly early in the morning (five-thirty to be exact) because the window has just blown itself inwards, the blinds are shaking in the wind and a horizontal rain is flinging itself across the room.

I get out of bed and close the window. I sit back in bed and look at Beck, but she’s still fast asleep. Three hours later and there’s no change and the rain still rattles the guttering steadily so I go and make some coffee and bring us both a mug up.

Four more hours and one over-emotional conversation later we head off to buy a tape measure. You may recall the several tape measures we own are lost somewhere around the house, buried under mounds of paper or dying plants, snaffled away by the undergrowth in the garden or, more likely, left on a bench at some art-construction site.

Or they could just be at the bottom of the tool box.

But anyway we buy another one and decide against the runner bean plants, because they don’t look like good value.

You may also remember the vague plans to completely rearrange the whole house. This is where the tape measure is deployed. We take the dimensions of every single item of furniture and of the lounge, bedroom and studio/office. Then we draw up scale plans and cut out scale boxes that represent everything from the bed and the table we got out a pub to the TV and the CD towers. I can’t pick the tiny little paper squares up. They’re too small.

Several redesigns of our lives later and we eventually compromise. Beck wants to turn the lounge into the studio/office, the bedroom into the lounge and the studio/office into the bedroom. I really like our lounge. It’s my favourite space in the house. It feels like an extension of my mental happy place. So as some middle ground we switch the bedroom and the studio/office around. Something I’ve always suggested would be a good thing if we owned the house as the bedroom is a bit of a waste of floor space - after all, we only sleep there.

The problem has always been the fitted wardrobes are only really suitable for holding clothes. But, bugger it, we’ve decide to just do it and the clothes will have to stay away from the security of our slumbering bodies.

In order to do this we empty the studio/office into the bathroom and then shuffle the furniture around between the two rooms.

“A hour, tops,” she says with a smile.

Six and a half hours later we’ve got it to a point where we can actually sleep somewhere. The studio/office is now a bedroom in that there is no room for anything else in there other than a bed, but, hey, that’s fine. I might graze my nose on the shelves we drilled into the wall when we first moved in specifically to accommodate art books, DVD tapes and drawings and now hold our shirts and my jeans, but that’s cool.

I finally produce some dinner at about ten. There’s a little ache in the small of my back from lifting. I’m looking forward to my book when Beck remembers that we’re supposed to have met some friends at a nearby pub three hours previous. We drive down and I enjoy a lemonade, but struggle to follow the conversation partly because I’m tired, partly because my hearing suffers to varying degrees different days.

“Uh-huh,” I nod in what I hope seems a cheerful fashion.

Home now, typing this and technically it’s late. Technically it’s Tuesday and on the 26th day of this one-a-day challenge I’ve failed to deliver on time.

I don’t like that. I don’t like being late (okay, I know I often am, but it’s never my fault).

Well, I suppose it is still my same waking day. I haven’t been to sleep more than once since the last posting. And I could have got it up earlier but the office/studio didn’t have any form of curtains so I have to remove the blinds from one of the bedroom windows and transfer it across.

These things happen. I’ve been busy. What’d you do? Eh? Eh?

I know what I’d liked to have done…