In the wake of all the recent looting, I think Amazon must be having a fire sale. As of this week, they've reduced the price of my blog to just 99p. It means I'm now officially too cheap for Poundland. I don't actually get a say in what they charge for the thrill of reading this blog on a Kindle, but they've clearly looked at what's on offer, measured the level of interest from the buying public, and realised they need to slash the price if they're ever going to get any sales. It's the online equivalent of being remaindered.

Personally I think it's a good move. At the new discounted price, I get around 30p of every sale, so I only need to find 5,000 subscribers who are willing to pay good money for something they can get for free on the internet, and I'll be able to give up work. They reckon there are more than ten million Kindle owners out there, so if I appeal to just one in every 2,000, I've got it made. I only need a market share of 0.05%. If this was Dragons Den, they'd be biting my hand off.

Obviously I'll soon be using that one remaining limb to hand in my notice at work, but in the meantime, it's nice to get out and about to the health centres of Sussex. I was in Forest Row yesterday, screening the woodcutters of Winnie the Pooh country, so I popped out at lunchtime for some honey. When I returned to the surgery, I found a young man standing outside in the rain by the locked staff entrance, trying (and failing) to get in.

Seeing me approach with my natural air of authority and quiet intelligence, he immediately mistook me for a GP, shook me by the hand (I still had two at that point), and introduced himself as Dr X, the locum. He then added that he doesn't usually work in Forest Row, but that he'd been asked to cover a clinic for the afternoon, and didn't know how to get in.

As a custodian of all world knowledge, I naturally possessed the code to the door, so I opened it for him, showed him where to go, and then completely freaked him out by informing him that not only did I know who he was, but that I'd met him twice before. The first occasion was at an intellectual pig party in 2009, and the second was on April 14th last year. He was the doctor who saw Amelie in A & E after I yanked her arm off in Lidl. When I told him, he panicked slightly, and asked if I'd tracked him down to the forest to take revenge for a bad diagnosis. I told him no, and that it's Amelie he needs to be frightened of.

So that's a doctors' mess in 2009, an emergency room in 2010, and a forest clearing in 2011. We're obviously destined to meet every year. Frankly I've got relatives I see less often. He's a very nice chap though. It's a shame I can't remember his name.