Whacked-out dreams. Apart from dreaming yet again that I'd screwed up my no-food regime (strange, because I have no such problems with forgetfulness in the waking world), I later thought I was talking to someone who was criticising me for never drinking tea or coffee. I think it was someone I more or less respect, too (though I don't remember who), which is all the weirder.

I woke up at 2am absolutely freezing despite my two layers of clothes plus duvet, grabbed my thick-as-a-Persian-cat dressing gown and just managed to get back to sleep. I've been chilly daily and nightly for the last few weeks and ignored it - it's October, after all - but I fear it's time to face up to the fact that I have completely lost my cold immunity.

Thus, despite a tantrum or two at the world - hell no, bitch! This is me! I don't get cold! - I don't think I'll be able to wander about in short-sleeved cotton shirts this winter. I may even hav eto close my bedroom window. (And I think I may be coming down with something. I blame shedding an eighth of my body weight in as many weeks - my whole system's probably feeling pretty low. Well, suck it up, stupid meat-carcase.)