Today was Mr Bea's birthday. Upon getting out of bed, I changed into my candy-pink, frilly G-str.ing and matching, half-cup, push-up bra, hidden coyly beneath an off-white, see-through, bum-length top, with the ties down the front left half-tied in what I judged to be a carelessly inviting manner. After breakfasting and unwrapping the gifts, I lounged back on the couch and gave a stretch filled with innocent suggestion. "So, birthday boy," I purred. "What do you want to do now?"

"Well, it's raining - not really the weather for going outside," replied Mr Bea. "I thought maybe the National History Museum."

(Later he claimed that because I am already at the limit of human desirability just pottering around doing the housework in my tracky-dacks, putting on lingerie and acting all sexy makes little change in his eyes.)

But that wasn't my only source of disappointment. You see this past week, as my good deed, I have been keeping an eye out for those boxes they have on counters at shops, supermarkets and cafes - the ones that collect what little change customers might casually drop into them for donation to some charity. I only found one. I think it was for the elderly. I know there are just as many in Singapore as anywhere else, and I can only assume I've spent the week shopping at places with low expectations of their customers. I think I'm going to have to continue looking out for them to make it worthwhile. Less of a good deed than I was hoping for the last of the year, but perhaps it's best just to let 2006 fizzle out quietly, so we can get on with the next thing. Which, as it turns out and as the title today suggests, is pretty similar to the thing we were doing before.

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I'm having internet troubles again, this time because of the earthquake in Taiwan. I can't comment at the moment, in fact I'm not sure if this will post. Email is still getting through, but it's all very slow. Anyway. It's not that I'm not thinking of you.