The next few months are going to be some of the most seminal you've experienced. This coincides with a further unfolding of a new you. Some old ways, attitudes and elements of your life may be set to go. This can be stressful, but also crucial.

That was my stars for yesterday in the local paper. Who am I to argue with a journalist? You know, this 'stars' business is peculiar. Intellectually you know that you're being conned a little bit. You know that paying any money to find deeper answers to the worries, insecurities, hopes, and dreams that made you read the stupid thing in the first place is a pointless exercise. How could any generic prediction of the future be accurate for an individual? it's a strange thing to realise that one-twelth of the worlds population are just like me, suffering the same problems with rising prices and officious claims advisors. But of course they aren't, that's simply me, my own little world, and in the generic text I spot those lines that offer some hope of relief. Just like everyone else.

But wait a moment. My life is changing, slowly, but with subtle significance. Why?

Bottom Shelf?

The cost of food is getting ridiculous. Wandering up and down the aisles of the supermarket is becoming an exercise of scavenging for cut price deals. Sooner or later I'm going to have a life or death struggle with some old lady for a packet of last weeks mince. Even pot noodles are beginning to assume culinary status and now cost twice what they did a few years ago. I can't even afford those anymore. The slightly cheaper ones are horrendous. Which leaves me with... Oh no... Not the bottom shelf....

Courage, Caldrail. The little white plastic pots containing a pot noodle at a price of several pence stood there in forlorn ranks, forgotten and despised by the population of Swindon. Gritting my teeth I stooped low and took one to the till. I'll give it a try. You never know.

And guess what? They're actually better than the ones costing five times as much. Bonus! I'll take five, please. Woo hoo! Now I know the joy of surviving in the wilderness.

Or Top Draw?

Now that I'm on daily signing I never know quite who will handle the claim. Today a cheerful woman popped her head around the corner and said "Mister Caldrail? Hi. Come with me please."

GAAAAAAAAAH! How many times do I have to tell these people? I arrived at her desk in a growing fury over the question of ettiquette, which as regular readers of my journal will know, is a persistent problem for me. I had just started to launch into my trademarked lecture about which title I go by when she apologised and... No... This cannot be happening!... Yes, she has. Are you sitting comfortably? If so, prepare yourself for a shock. For the first time ever in Swindon Job Centre, a claims advisor has called me Lord.

Star of the Week

I notice with interest that astronomers have discovered a star in another galaxy that is a whopping three hundred times larger and much much hotter than our own, quite possibly the largest stellar object in the universe. Except it won't be for long, because stars that size aren't exactly stable, so the whole thing will explode catastrophically sooner or later.

That's a prediction you can count on. But sometimes it isn't the stars that explode. One Emma Amelia Pearl Czikai is suing the makers of 'Britains Got Talent', one of those abysmal television shows were idiots get a chance to keep celebrity judges wealthy, for injured feelings, loss of earnings, and further compensation.

In case you haven't noticed Emma, the entertainment industry is indeed inherently exploitative and cruel. If you manage to pursue a career as a performing artist, you'll find the audience are even worse.