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This morning I rode a dragon to work and had to spend the rest of the day shaking scales out of my shoes. When I got to work there was a small team of gnomes mining for phosphorous in the main entrance. We got into an argument about how I didn’t think you could mine phosphorous and how they needed to put some fencing and a warning sign up because I’d nearly fallen down their hole. A porter eventually came along and made them move, but I was already quite peeved by that point. This was the first time I’ve ever come into contact with real gnomes and they haven’t made a particularly good impression. I found the head gnome surly and uncooperative and the rest of them looked like they were benefit theives.

The building had been set on fire overnight so I spent most of the morning cleaning smoke damaged surfaces and pulling up melted carpet tiles. It was feeling like a bit of a boring job until I uncovered a horde of uncut diamonds and solid gold bars under one of the floor panels. It took me most of my lunch break to sneak the stuff out of the building. One of my colleagues stopped me at one point and asked me whether trousers with bulky pockets were the new thing to be wearing. I tried to explain to her that I really wasn’t the best person to ask about matters of style but she didn’t seem particularly bothered. The menopausal women who work in the library seem to think that my youth means that I am inherently hip and groovy, despite my best efforts to dissuade them of the opinion.

After I’d hid my booty behind the bins outside the university chapel I pulled my lunch box out of my bag and discovered that instead of packing myself sandwiches last night, I’d instead inadvertently opened a portal into another dimension in which everyone was carrying clutch handbags under their arms. I stuck my head round to see what it was all about but there didn’t seem to be much going on. One lady had become involved in a scuffle with a Yorkshire terrier over the contents of her clutch bag. I can’t be sure as I was a few feet away, but I thought I caught a whiff of minted lamb coming off her.

For some reason I had to climb a really tall ladder to get back through the portal. It took forever and the ladder was made of metal which was really cold and made my fingers go a bit numb. About every sixth rung was coated in a thick layer of blackberry jam which made everything really slippy and stained my ankles a bit. When I got back into the library I stood in front of the hand dryer for a while to make myself feel better. I sensed there was a big queue for the toilets building up outside so I jammed the feminine hygiene bin underneath the blower so that it kept whirring and then squeezed through the bathroom window and made my way back to my desk.

The rest of the afternoon was quite uneventful. I went out at about 3pm to talk to a pawn broker about my treasure. He said that he suspected the diamonds of being genetically modified and as such he was ethically opposed to having anything to do with them as he didn’t want his kids growing up in a world that had been devastated by his generation’s wanton neglect and abuse. I told him that was fine and gave him a fantastic sob story about how I’d lost my dragon that morning and how no one at work was nice enough to give me the bus fare home. He took the diamonds in the end in return for a piggy back home. I made him go twice round the park at a brisk trot just to get my money’s worth. I think he stepped in poo at one point. It was only after I got home that I realised my dragon was still chained up outside work. But I’m sure he’ll be ok. I think they eat grass.

Tomorrow is my evening shift so I’m going into town in the morning to see what the exchange rate is like on gold bars to Euros. If it’s rubbish then I might wait a while, but I’ve decided that I’m going to go to Belgium to buy a waffle and come back through the Channel Tunnel and try to look French. After that I’m thinking about constructing a large perspex dome over the top of Braunstone and then turning the place into a big cattery. But a cattery for dogs. And rabbits. Which means that I’ll need to hire someone to look after the rabbits as I’ve never had one and can’t be trusted.

Oh, and last night I dreamed that I was engaged in a romantic entanglement with Steven Fry. It was terribly civilised.