Mrs Rabbit is off to Cornwall for most of next week. I’ll be alone in the house each night and, like a teenager, I look forward to staying up too late, drinking too much and watching unsuitable stuff on TV.

But unlike a teenager, I’ll be drinking red wine almost exclusively, and the unsuitable stuff I’ll be watching will be documentaries on such things as the aeroplanes, the renaissance and ghosts.

I’m also trying to write a sitcom at the moment, and knowing I can stay up, tapping at my laptop as late as I want is such a luxury. But I know what’s going to happen. The night my wife departs, I’ll get too drunk, stay up too late and expect something exciting to happen and it won’t.

The rest of the week I’ll just do what I normally do, but alone, feeling slightly down about it.

But I will sleep on her side of the bed, for the sake of novelty.

She doesn’t go until Sunday and I’m already missing her.