What would you ask for? (aside from world peace...)

After computer-related time wasting, which for once was not the fault of twitter, it's now late. I'm tired, and I'm grumpy. And my wife's in Argentina. No, wait, that's something else.

Anyway, what I am gearing up for here is my excuse for using another prompt. This time I am going to type it up myself, since my formatting was completely messed up last time I copied and pasted. Oh good, more computer-related time wasting. Weren't these things supposed to make our lives easier?

(I've chosen a nice, cheerful topic for today so I'll soon be much more fun. Hang in there.)

If someone, anyone, could give you a gift right now that would truly make you happy, what would it be? Would a single rose make your day or would you need something like a new car?

It can be anything, so do not worry what other people will think of your choice. What do you want most right now, in this moment?

I'm assuming you, whoever you are, are looking for something more sophisticated than, bed with a cup of tea and a West Wing episode, followed by a lie in tomorrow.

It's a lovely sentiment, isn't it, not to worry what other people will think of my choice, but I'm putting it online for everyone to read. And I now know that everyone includes some people I actually am friends with in real life. It would take extraordinary reserves of self-confidence to blog the same way as I write in my journal. Wouldn't it? But I'll give it my best shot.

First question is, who is the anyone who is giving me a gift? Because, frankly, if Bradley Whitford were to turn up on my doorstep clean-shaven and bearing said red rose, that is my day pretty much made. (Man, I sound American these days. But that's a topic for another day.) Actually, he could turn up with not so much as a wilted daisy and still be very welcome.

Or, if Janel Moloney or Melissa Fitzgerald or Lauren Graham wanted to buy me a coffee, that would be fine too. Especially if it was one of those nice latté things I've heard you can get in other countries.

Second question - can I really have anything? Like, for example, a first-class plane ticket to DC for after that pesky ash cloud has cleared? An apartment within walking distance of the White House and a Starbucks - or, better still, in Georgetown - where I could sit and write my book (yes, I really am going to finish it one day), gather inspiration for my next one, and, assuming the absence of Bradley Whitford from my life after all, meet my own Josh Lyman? (Yes, there's a theme here. I'm sorry, but surely by now you can't still be surprised.)

I don't even need to have the apartment forever. (Erm, didn't I used to call that a flat? I rest my earlier case.) Just a few months. See how undemanding I am.

I'm not sure what any of this says about me, but I'm thinking it's probably nothing you or I hadn't already figured out. (Just to throw in another Americanism.)

But see, I'm not yet ready to go to bed. There must be other options that would work. A very large Amazon gift voucher, for instance. A couple of weeks on a Californian beach. (There's that theme again.)

Oh, I know. I know what I really want. An iPhone. I want an iPhone. I've wanted one for a long, long time and now that you can get them free on Orange back in the UK, that the adverts for applications are everywhere, I want one even more. So close, yet...

That said, if we're wishing for things, I want Belgium to repeal its ridiculous law which forbids phone companies from giving out free mobiles. Then I could have an iPhone, everyone I know could have an iPhone, Belgium could start tweeting and I'd have some online friends in my time zone and not feel like I live in a country that is somehow lacking in something vital. Which is spectacularly unfair, because we have amazing chocolate and beer and waffles and chips here, many great people, and enough quirkiness to fill a lifetime of novels.

Novels. To be honest, a few months off work so I could write mine would be amazing - even if I can't do it in Georgetown or New York City or Cambridge or a village in the South of France. Also, for an expert in the publishing industry to move in with me and be my writing coach for a few weeks.

Wow. Better go to bed before I start asking for, ahem, the impossible.