I have never liked the story of The Princess and the Pea. Apart from anything else, she was spectacularly rude to her hostess, complaining about her sleeping arrangements. And don’t get me started on her sense of entitlement. When she grew up I bet she became that person who ducks out of visiting terminally ill relatives because “I’ve always hated hospitals.” As if that made her special…

I am definitely not a princess as the new me is now sleeping for England. I leap into bed joyfully at a ridiculously early hour, and dive into sleep like a dolphin into tropical waters. (I’ve pinched that from somewhere. T H White, I think. Don’t sue me.)

I can’t decide which I love best. Going to sleep sober, or waking up sober. I think, on balance, waking up sober. The world is my lobster.