So -- how long is this sciatica-lark going to go on for? It's been a week and despite my having been on medication since last Tuesday, I don't feel as if any real improvement's set in yet -- except that I know "I'd feel much worse if I weren't under such heavy sedation". Those heavy duty painkillers have really made a difference, but as I keep forgetting to take them at regular intervals, every 9-10 hours or so I get an extremely rude awakening; and that's how I know that the underlying problem hasn't gone away.

Anyway, for the last two nights I've managed to decamp to the sofa and watch a bit of telly, in an effort to relieve the boredom, but if I'm honest I must admit that I might as well not have bothered. Just The Two Of Us is the best proof, if proof were needed, that a formula that works in one set of circumstances, doesn't necessarily have to do so in another. I enjoyed watching Strictly Come Dancing earlier this year, and even if there were a few candidates that couldn't dance very well, I could still appreciate their obvious effort to try to get it right -- but when it comes to singing, it's quite a different matter. None of the candidates, none, can sing; and points for trying -- no, it just doesn't work that way. They grate on the ear. And my remote is wonky.

Maybe the fact that the professionals are garnered from any and every genre makes it more difficult, too. I mean, how can they expect an opera singer to teach anyone to sing rock, or soul, or swing or c&w? It just makes for painful watching. None of the celebs has any kind of range to their voice; and the only one that wasn't afraid to belt out has already been eliminated. And rightly so, though I think Martin Fry's performance on the night was more of an embarrassment than hers. Fancy a singer not coming in on time or in the right key! Though I suppose I won't let it affect my opinion that The Lexicon Of Love is one of the best albums to have come out of the 80s.

I wish I hadn't read and re-read every book in the flat twice already...