WELL what a week I've had.As if the cutting edge of East Anglian journalism isn't enough to tax my limited brain, I have been tempted by dinner parties, buffets, the Evening Star canteen and an unopened box of Christmas biscuits.

WELL what a week I've had.

As if the cutting edge of East Anglian journalism isn't enough to tax my limited brain, I have been tempted by dinner parties, buffets, the Evening Star canteen and an unopened box of Christmas biscuits.

To add insult to injury I'm highly strung! Apparently. As if?!

Deciding I needed a boost to my failing confidence, I met up with Ipswich's very own lady of mystery Sue Knock.

Always a little susceptible to the occult and keen on the inexplicable-I look out for UFOs on long haul flights-I had met clairvoyant Sue once before.

She had predicted in October 2004, correctly as it would later turn out, that I would report for the newspaper on a large explosion in central London, so I admit I was already predisposed to believe she must have some gift of the seer.

As we sat down and peered into my tea leaves, I don't drink tea but had to hold the cup to make sure it picked up my 'vibrations', Miss Knock began a conversation that has disturbed, entertained and worried me ever since.

As soon as the photographer left - she kept picking up his “powerful” vibrations - I was ensconced on the comfortable sofa able to talk about myself and my life-my favourite subject-for a whole hour.

Miss Knock, who tuned in to the world of spirit by handling my mobile phone, predicted some interesting events.

She said: “You've got persevere with the ballroom dancing. You'll do well if you stay at it.”

Quite a nice opener I thought.

“You're in an emotional void at the moment but new people will come into your life.”

Not bad.

“You're a little more anxious than most people, full of nervous energy. You find it difficult to relax, highly strung, you get worried. Oh you do like your food don't you?”

Oh ok. Very funny.

“You're going to work in a war zone. I am getting West Africa as a destination? Have you ever been there?”

No I hadn't, oh God.

“You will be again in London. I am afraid the terrorists will strike again. Something to do with a Scottish bank but it won't be anywhere where people live. Technology will thwart other attacks.”

I better warn someone hadn't I?

“There's a tabby cat that's come to visit you.”

Ok we had a tabby cat called Beth.

“You need to go to the dentist. Why have you left it so long?”

Well a morbid fear of paying through the nose, I replied.

“Later in you're career you will be in New York. Some form of journalism but something to do with law.”

Mmmm pretty nice , I thought as I wondered what my penthouse will be like.

“You like working at the Evening Star. You need to be more confident.”

That's enough.

Admittedly I was a little taken a-back but it wasn't until Miss Knock hooked up with my dead relations I began to be amazed.

Somehow she seemed to know about my long dead relations things I found difficult to believe she could possibly have known.

Personal things I wouldn't tell even my most loyal, most devoted fans.

Keen to help and cathartic in the extreme, Miss Knock's wise words and soothing presence made me feel much better.

I walked back to the newsroom with a spring in my step secure in the knowledge that although I like my food, I get over-anxious, I could at least be thankful I wasn't closely related to anyone Welsh.

Shame she couldn't do anything about my hair loss.

But it's not every day you find out you're going to go notepad in hand to a West African war zone and work in New York no wonder I'm highly strung!

At least the dancing's keeping my feet on the ground.

AS Will Young quite famously said I think I better leave right now.

At least he knew when to get out.

I, however, am now stuck in the addictive loop of amateur dramatics and thanks to David, the rapscallion of a choreographer, I am now primed and ready for complete and utter public humiliation.

During my latest rehearsal, now taking place twice a week as we near the day when we tread the boards, I moved from playing a French customs official to a Swiss cow herd with a lady wife.

This doesn't sound too awful I know but I hardly have time to develop my character, when I am pulled into the centre stage as Mimsie-one of the leading ladies-sings the immortal line

“A friend of mine had an accident. Laughed so hard off the wall he went. A-Humpty -Dumpty was his name….”

As she mentions the words 'A-Humpty-Dumpty' she turns to me, pushes me down a few steps and I end up in the middle of the stage lying on my front.

“But I'm only eleven stone!”, I protested. “Why do I have to be humpty? And why can't I have a stunt double?”

A few people shifted uncomfortably on their feet.

After I have been picked up by a trio of leading ladies, I then do a little jig before I am pulled off by my wife, who has become angered by all the attention I get. React darling! React!

The world of am dram is such a cut throat business even when you're wearing lederhosen.

LIFESTYLE guru Roberta, the most important lady in my life at the moment and Weight Watchers oracle, was delighted this week to tell me I lost a further two and a half pounds-making a total of 11- despite a kebab, bottle of red wine and an almost uncontrollable urge for pastry.

“You're fading away James. Well done,” she said.

Now with ballroom dancing, extra determination to walk and a plan at the back of my mind to get my bicycle out of the cellar I think I am doing ok.

Somewhere I have a six pack I just know it.