Awesome is as awesome does

Allow me to take you into the secret world of a top awesome blogger. Then weep. Thank God Virginia Woolf and I never overlapped. The seminal book, "A shit-heap of my own," that might have arisen as a result of the encounter would probably not have resonated to the same extent within the literary world. But, there again, the whole dismal process of tidying up my desk might have taken her mind off suicide.

I'm surrounded by precious objects that bring inspiration in their wake. Or MRSA, listeria, and salmonella. Both, possibly, on a good day.

To my left is the metal bowl I've been vowing to chuck for the past decade. Embellished with what look like random patches of rust - largely because they are, in fact, random patches of rust - it contains three cherry pips and two, pathetic grape stalks which, in their exhausted and fruitless state provide an accurate representation of my current levels of inspiration. Or just show that tidying up is not, as the headhunters would say, among my core competencies.

Straight ahead, nestling in a hand-crafted pile of dust, is a small pile of empty cookie cases. I never make cookies and have no idea how they got here, though I suspect they may have clambered under the computer monitor for warmth.

A small wooden train mounts a calculator, in a way that could be described as suggestive only if you hadn't been getting out much.

And finally, my trusty mouse, still lighting up but with a lack of enthusiasm that suggests that the emotional connection has been broken. Or that I've let its little batteries go flat again.

Anyway, Mya, thanks so much for the award. I'm thrilled. Awesome. By God, yes. It oozes from every pore.