… you find a name and a time written in your Filofax and they mean nothing to you.

That happened to me today, When I was checking what it was I had in store for myself (I write myself lists, you see …). I found “10.00am: Janet Matthews”.

I frowned up at Gretchen, who was standing beside me at the time.

“Who the hell is Janet Matthews and why is she coming to see me at 10 o’clock?”

She had no idea. The name meant nothing to her. She checked the Centre diary. Nothing. She checked the telephone message book. Nothing.

10 o’clock came and went and nobody answering to the name of Janet Matthews showed up.

I told myself that I’d obviously had a mental aberration or something, and forgot about it … until, a few hours later, a small piece of white paper fluttered to the floor from my Filofax. I picked it up and looked at it.

It was an appointment slip. To be precise, it was an appointment for me with the Dental Hygienist in Cockermouth.

I don’t need to tell you when the appointment was, do I?  Or what the name of the hygienist is?

Sorry, Janet.