I had a search engine hit yesterday for the words "What kind of ground does Rakti like?". Which probably sounds like a gardening question to most people. But as a service to my visitors, I can tell you that Rakti likes fast ground. If you back him on anything less than good-to-firm, he'll run like a donkey and get beaten by the kind of old nags who wouldn't normally be fit to lick his shiny golden horse shoes. Not that I have any personal experience of that, obviously.

Anyhoo, like a fossil from the north Norfolk coast, I've recently had the pleasure of being tagged by Dave. The task, which I'm loathe to accept, but will do, seeing as I lead an empty life and have nothing else to say, is this:

1. Delve into your blog archive.

2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).

3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).

4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas.

5. Tag five people to do the same.

Yes, it is pointless. Which is why it fits in here so well.

It turns out that my 23rd post was written on 19th April 2003. And it doesn't have as many as five sentences. But hey, it was two and a half years ago, and at the time I was very much a student of the Lisa school of blog-posting. Even though I'd never met her at the time.

But the sentence "closest to" number five is this:

"You'll hate yourself in the morning."

It followed a one night stand with a chocolate bar, and at the time may have seemed like a literal comment on the dangers of binge-eating at Easter. But on reflection I feel I was trying to make an altogether deeper point about personal growth (and I don't mean my expanding waistline).

Life is like a rollercoaster ride (it makes you sick and it's over before you know it), but it's a journey of self-discovery and acceptance. In the 'morning' of our lives, we tend to feel dissatisfied with our lot, hating our bodies, our lives, and our regional weathergirls. But as we grow older and move on to the 'afternoon' years (shortly after pigging out at the 'lunchtime' of our lives) we begin to accept that life isn't so bad after all, and it's not worth worrying about the small and insignificant bald patch that's appeared in the last couple of years. In short, we stop hating and start loving.

Obviously I'm still in my very early thirties, and have barely experienced brunch, but even so, this is a lesson that I've learnt, and was trying to pass on via my blog two and a half years ago. Naturally it fell on deaf ears, but I don't care, because I'm a lover, not a fighter, and I've accepted myself and all those around me.

Although I still don't like Julie Reinger.

Anyhoo, I don't know as many as five people, so I'll spare everyone else the experience of being tagged. And besides, you don't want to waste your time doing something like this. You'll hate yourself in the morning.