Written the night before, when I should be finding out what a spreadsheet is

I was walking up the hill to work when a schoolgirl asked me the time. I told her it was twenty-to-nine. Since it was. She then asked me if she was late for school, so I pointed out that I didn't know what time she started. 'Half-nine', she said. 'You've got ages', I said, recklessly. On reflection, it did seem that she might have benefitted from some extra tuition.

So I have finally left the 'filler' job of bookselling, which filled twenty years or so. I am surprised at the lack of interest shown by the local and national media in this. It's a big deal. Chris's Mum wrote in the good luck card she kindly sent me: 'It's a big change for you, isn't it?' Which made me feel obliged to send her a card saying: 'Yes'.

This significant event was celebrated with tapas and drinks. Some old Waterstone's and Ottakars faces attended. Mark, for example, who is a living breathing example of what leaving Waterstone's can do for you. These days he's got a new funky hairstyle and can be seen on Facebook hobnobbing with Goldie Lookin' Chain. Can it be long before he's appearing in those Channel 5 programmes where they count down the scariest confectionery of the 80's?

It was a good night; and almost worth leaving simply to have precipitated it. No, I don't have any regrets about quitting my job.

The regrets are all about getting another one.