I am 31 today. I know it's just a number and everything, but this one feels a lot more depressing than 30 did. What must 35+ be like? Best not to think about it I suppose.

Having such an understanding boss I've been given the afternoon off to go shopping. Maybe I'll cheer myself up with a little treat.

I was going to go to an art shop and buy a selection of brushes, oil paints and a canvas. Karen must have known this and so I found myself unwrapping them this morning. Why? I'm going to learn to paint!

My inspiration comes from, of all places, Rolf Harris. There was a documentary on New Year's Day about his portrait of the Queen. He made it look fun and not that hard, which appeals to me. So I went and bought his book and have been reading up on basic techniques.

Karen thinks it's another fad, but I'm hoping not. While I'm open to the idea that I will be awful at it I think it's one of those things you can only get better at. Plus it's cheap, you can do it any time of day, you don't need to leave the house and I could carry on doing it until I'm twice as old. Sixty two! Now there's a scary thought.

Wish me luck. I'll talk more about it if anything good comes of it. If not you'll never hear me mention it again.