This has to be the hairiest approach to payday for some time. Yesterday I used up my last six pounds on my mobile pretending to be equal to my Top Account Manager Friend who has never needed to worry about phone time in her charmed life.Till midnight, it’s text or 999 emergency calls.

For three days the mongrel mutt who shares our family life has been dining out on cat food, Whiskas to be precise, because that’s what we’ve got left. His gas levels have gone through the roof, and are displaying that rather distressing powdery quality common in end-off-the-month mutts.

Today in the staff room I cornered  and wolfed a stale packet of top-of-the-range hand cooked crisps someone left lying around (what does ‘hand cooked’ mean, anyway? Sounds like a trip to casualty is on order) , watching my clever and more prosperous colleagues eating the sandwiches and salads which, to me, speak volumes about better financial management than mine.

But at midnight, I shall be solvent once more. The world shall be my oyster. I shall have fought the good fight, run the race to the finish, ready to start another disastrous round of spending all over again. In fact, I wonder just how much I can spend before the month kicks off on the first….

We are all about to be poorer. Those who are wise are already husbanding away cash to see them through the rainy days to come. When I’m in the zone I can economise with the best of them. But I have this rebellious and self destructive streak which dominates, basically, until abject poverty terrifies me into submission. This streak sings bawdily in the face of the Double Dip: eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow the dog will once more dine breezily on cat food…..