If you ask around I don't doubt for a moment that you'll find those who think I'm wnot quite right. Partly that's down to my Londonian genes, which grate irritably on the Swindon herd. Partly it's down to my individualism, something else the Swindon herd doesn't comprehend easily. On the other hand, I have a strange exotic ailment normally only reserved for celebrities trying to get out of the jungle.

What is this strange ailment, you might ask? Some of you will be muttering various causes of my discomfort already, but no, you're wrong. It's just simple klutziness. And how did this ailment affect me?

Well, I was on my way back to the programme centre for another days internetting when I spotted my advisor leaving for his lunchbreak. Oh no, he's not going out for doughnuts without including me on his list of grateful consumers. I was about to regale him with my demands when I spotted a car approaching and keen not to get run over, I concentrated my efforts on reaching the other side of the road first.

However, with one foot on the pavement I turned and mentioned to him that 'plain' was perfectly acceptable for my lunchtime doughnut. He laughed. He actually laughed! Is that cruel or what? But sadly I was not concentrating on walking anymore, so my other foot tripped on the kerbstone. Worse still, my rucksack slid off my shoulder due to the impact and pulled me forwards. It was one of those moments where you know what's going to happen but you're helpless to avoid it. I fell over.

My advisor laughed even more. Life can so cruel.

Life Gets Crueller Still

Another road to cross on my merry way. I've had a bit of practice at this over the years and pride myself that I can do this dangerous task unassisted. Sadly I was being so expert and careful I forgot how close I was to a roadsign in my way....

Hey! Which idiot put this sign here? The drivers of cars passing by were most amused.

Life Gets Incredibly Cruel

For the most disastrous of all my clumsy escapades, we now go back a decade to the glory years of my flying activities. I had taken a young lady friend for a joyride in a two seat Cessna and believe me, those cockpits are snug. The flight had gone well and I parked the aeroplane on the grass apron, shutting down the fuel and electrics as the propellor clattered to a halt.

There's an odd silence after an aero-engine is switched off. The noise inside the cockpit is a loud roar and you sort of get used to it after an hour. I turned to my companion and advised her to be careful on getting out of the aeroplane. The step is quite small. Miss it and you'll fall over. She waited and listened dutifully as I unstrapped and got out.

I missed the step completely. Yes. I fell over.