IT’S always puzzling that recruiters ask the question: “Where do you see yourself in five years’ time?”

FROM the outset, the man in my life knew he was marrying the opposite of a domestic goddess. I told him, straight up, that I was a slob.

The reality is that not voting has no dire consequences. Nobody dies. Nobody goes to jail. Nobody gets fined.

WE HAVE forgotten how to die well. That’s the thesis of a doctor friend of mine. He has done a study of Victorian art representing the moment of death, the time leading up to death, or the period immediately thereafter. The paintings inevitably portray a scene of sadness but, at the same time, a scene of peace and tranquillity and quiet.

MICHAEL O’Leary needs me. He may not know he needs me, but he really does. If he’s going to turn Ryanair towards customer care, then bottom to top training is going to be required, and I’m his woman.

NEVER mind dress-down Fridays.

THE minute I saw the two lists, I started to measure myself against them. No possibility of ignoring them. I’ve spent my whole life addicted to doing magazine quizzes that invite you to fill out a number of questions which, in turn, will reveal all about you. You know, the kind of thing where the questionnaire purports to find out if you’re attractive to the opposite sex? Whenever I filled those in, I would find a position barely a notch above bubonic plague.

ANOTHER summer gone by without me swimming with dolphins. All I can ever boast is swimming with jellyfish.

We lie about ourselves because we prefer the version we make up to the one we grew up with.

I HAD 14 men in my bedroom this weekend. Separately, for the most part, although two brothers visited on Saturday at the same time.