Dragon Lady is back on duty at the library and already one man is risking life and limb by making a phone call to his boss with a mobile. So far he's kept it relatively quiet, whispering responses like "Yes, I'll see to that tomorrow" and "Right...", and other clever answers to demands from frustrated organisers. Oh ye gods, he's finished the phone call and survived! How did he get away with it? Is Dragon Lady in a good mood?

Hi There

Yesterday afternoon was the moment I discovered my larder had become an extremely good illustration of the vacuum of space. Now it might seem that all I needed to do was stroll down to the supermarket and replace my empty ration cupboard with the bounty of goods available on special offer, and you'd be right, but the matter is complicated by the works going on in Regent Street, our main shopping centre.

It started just after christmas, with some minor holes dug here and there. When the contractors finished those, they didn't bother replacing the decorative stonework, just spread garish tarmac over the scar. They didn't stop there. Now half the street is fenced off and slowly they're building a replica of Verdun in 1917. And it gets worse.

Regents Street has been pedestrianised for a few decades now. The tram lines are long gone, the road no longer accessed by vehicles apart from security vans and those annoying little pick-up trucks the council uses to push pedestrians around. Instead of a clear open space, the planners filled it with all sorts of obstacles. Seats, trees, internet access points, advertisement billboards, and so forth, such that pedestrians are left with exactly the same space to walk along that they had before the street was closed to traffic. So now these works are ripping up what's left.

I huffed, puffed, and pushed my way along the crowds of afternoon shoppers. Passing the department store where I'd worked earlier this year I saw Miss A, relaxing outside during her break. Hi there! She smiled at the reminder I still exist. The chap stood next to her grimaced at the interruption to his attempt to charm the knickers of her, and I waved cheerily. Almost makes you feel wanted.

Election? What Election?

The General Election takes place tomorrow. I just thought I'd remind you all in case any of the news coverage hasn't reached you. I notice that Simon Cowell has been praising this chance to choose a new government. From X-Factor to X-In-The-Box. For the first time, I actually like what he said. But quite why we need him to tell us the obvious is beyond me.

Is it just me or has Simon Cowell been wheeled out to persuade disinterested Brits to bother turning up and registering their vote? After all the polls and detailed analysis of the run-up to what seems to be a very dull election, there seems to very little urgency about it at all. As for me, I look out the window, see the hazy sunshine and cool breeze, and wonder if I might be better off enjoying the countryside. After all, the lesson of the last year in British politics is that our politicians are a worthless lot, whatever they're promising us. Sorry Simon, your word is not going to persuade us. Maybe you should offer a prize or something? You know about that business more than I do. All I know is whoever gets into power is going to pee me off with stupid initiatives designed to make us believe they actually want to make our lives better and send us the bill the year after.

Oh dear... I'm getting pessimistic. No, this is a chance to choose another star studded government...