I was checking a parent's address at the school reception desk when the heat started creeping up my neck, and within a minute my blouse felt damp under both arms. There was nothing particularly stressful happening, which somehow made it more annoying. I carried on spelling the street name back to her while trying to edge my chair towards the little fan without making an event of it. By lunchtime I was cold in the same clothes. I've put a spare top in my bag now, alongside about six other things I carry for emergencies that generally happen to someone else. It takes up most of the space, but I am not spending another afternoon drying out in reception.

I'm looking at a holiday on my own and have reached the stage of comparing airport transfers instead of deciding whether I actually want to go. Very productive procrastination, fully colour-coded if necessary. The hotel reviews keep saying it's lovely for couples, which probably means it has double beds and not a committee checking your marital status at breakfast. Still, I keep trying to picture that first evening without anyone to ask what they fancy doing. I could invite someone, but then I'd be arranging their holiday as well. I've saved two places and closed the other tabs. Tomorrow's job is choosing between them, not finding a third.

My daughter rang from Manchester to ask about something at work, then said she'd better go because she wanted to tell her friend the news. I was pleased she'd called me first, and then oddly disappointed that the call was already over. There wasn't anything else I needed to say. I just hadn't finished enjoying being included, which sounds rather pathetic written down. I nearly rang my mother afterwards and then remembered how often I look at the time when she starts telling me about her neighbours. Anyway, I did ring. She complained about her curtains for a good fifteen minutes and I was both glad and mildly irritated to be there.