Day 1: Cathy's Things To Do list is taped to the refrigerator. I've brought out the toolbox to fix the leak in the kitchen sink. And I've loaded the fridge with vegetables, fruit and salad stuff. Also some taco fixings in case I get into a festive mood. I forgot the cat food, though.

Tonight I'm going to steam some cauliflower and read Schneeburger's Greek Foreign Policy 1945-85. If there's any time left over, I'll watch the TV news.

Day 2: Didn't get around to the book. A pretty good thriller, Dead Smash, was on TV. And it appears salsa stains on the rug can be removed with warm beer.

Unfortunately, I forgot to water the plants tonight. I read once that it's better to water them at night. This evening I'm going to fix the kitchen sink for sure. Then I'll make a super salad, and get down to some good reading. Or maybe that documentary on the ancient Phonecians is available at the video shop.

Day 3: Overslept today. Didn't feel like a salad last night, so I made more tacos and watched a couple of Clint Eastwood movies. Beer stains on the rug can be removed with white wine. I ran out of cat food, but the little beasts seem to thrive on leftover tacos.

Day 4: I might have to do the laundry. It's amazing a civilised, modern household does not have enough clothing to last two weeks. Tonight is for housekeeping: I'll water the plants finally, and fix that kitchen sink. Also, I read somewhere white wine stains will come out with a solution of baking soda and warm water. Must get cat food.

Day 5: Did you know that, when hungry enough, cats will eat things as varied as martini olives, toothpaste and chutney? Last night was great: after a hearty dinner of frozen eclairs and toasted almond ice-cream, I watched Man-Eating Robots on a Mission from Hell. Forgot about the laundry, but hey, recycling's what it's all about, right? Day 6: Tripped over the toolbox I'd left out to fix the kitchen sink. Bloodstains cannot be removed from carpets, apparently. Watched The Montana Electric Toothbrush Massacre.

Day 7: Today I bought a guitar and amplifier. What better time to sing the blues than when my woman's gone? Practised until 3 am. To save time and effort, I'll throw all my food wrappers in the kitchen and do a big cleanup the day before Cathy gets home.

Day 8: Ran out of food. Discovered the supermarket will not deliver four frozen chicken pot pies and a six-pack of beer. I'm not so worried about me, but the cats shouldn't go any longer without nourishment. It's hard to tell if the little guys are losing weight: I haven't seen them since I started practising my guitar solos.

Day 9: Those wrappers really pile up in the kitchen. I was worried about cockroaches, so I locked the cats in there to take care of them. They can drink water from the leak in the sink. Who said a man can't run a household? Day 10: For some unknown reason, the cats attacked me. I was so busy finding bandages and antiseptic I forgot to water the plants. Strange animals, cats. What do they want? Day 11: I've been asked not to return to work until I get some clean clothes. So I stayed home and watched Insatiable Cheerleaders Meet the Stud Football Team From Hell. Haven't been able to find the refrigerator in two days. No water. The postman doesn't seem to come any more. I think the cats got him. And now they're giving me funny looks. Minor fire on balcony. Plants on the balcony too dry. Put it out with living room rug. Too many stains on it anyway.

Day 12: The cats snarl a lot now, but they're afraid of fire. And there's lots of wood.

Day 13: Wife home tomorrow. Must clean.

Day 14: Fire going out. Water gone. Cats coming for me. All is lost.