Continued from yesterday...

Previously on Me Me Me... My Dad buys a projector for a presentation after my recommendation. Projector doesn't do what I thought it did, we need a laptop. My Canadian Girlfriend has very nice norks.

I tell my dad the news and he takes it very well. The colour drains from his face and he starts to cry but apart from that he deals very well. He has an old laptop which runs on steam, has Office 1879 on it and a 133 MHz processor which is powered by a small hamster in wheel. I set it up next to the projector.

"Phew!" I say, "It's getting hot in here. I'm gonna have to take off my sweater." I remember that this was the line I was going to use if I required My Canadian Girlfriend's Breasts. From the other side of the house, I hear the dropping of the Saturday Supplement and the pitter patter of little tiny feet. She is running towards the dining room. However, I manage to intercept her before she reaches the door way and anyone gets embarrassed.

We all sit down and I wipe the sweat from my brow. We are sitting round the dining room table waiting for the ancient laptop to open PowerPoint up. With hindsight, I should've set it going last Tuesday. But on the upside, at least the projector is showing what's on the laptop screen. That is a move in the right direction. And we have sourced another laptop which was made this century!

I love it when a plan comes together.

The room hotter than a lingerie pillow fight between Jessica Simpson and Christina Aguillera. I touch the top of the projector and layers of my skin stay stuck to the top of it. It is very hot.

Twang! (Note to Self: When you finally get round to Pod-casting - Remember that this is the noise of a projector fan braking.)

Everyone sits there is shock.

It's like someone has told us that someone has died. No one speaks. I wonder how long I have to wait before I can legitimately grab the last toasted Hot Cross bun.

I look at the blinking orange light and count four blinks.

"Yep" I pronounce, "the manual says that four blinks means the fan is broken. Ok, so we have about an hour before the presentation, I have a plan! But I am going to need diplomatic immunity! I am going to go to work and borrow one of their projectors."

"You'll never make it, it's at least an hour away." I hear as the door swings closed behind me, I like a challenge. The door sticks on the latch and swings open again. I lose five vital seconds as I turn and pull the door shut properly.

I scurry down the drive, hot cross bun in mouth and jump in Harry the Yaris and set off. I weave in and out of cars. I go straight over the white painted circle of a mini-roundabout. I go through a light on Amber. And as I speed off up the slip road, the G-Force pins me to the car seat.

I wish I'd brought my dad's Volvo. That has a turbo and I'd be there by now.

Concluded Thursday...