Drogba's Diary
7:25am Woke up, in desperate pain because of the hardness of my mattress, pressing against my body like a stamp from a giant wearing memory foam boots. Death is surely near.
7:32am Battled through the pain, and then remembered my winning goal last night, which brought a smile to my face.
7:33am Cried out in desperate anguish as my cheek muscles went into cramp from smiling. Wondered if this was the end of me.
7:52am Managed to get out of bed, but then the cruel, never-ending pull of gravity yanked me to the ground and kept me there. Surely now I will die.
8:05am My maid brought me my cornflakes. Even though they had been soaking in milk for an hour, like I request, the edges, they are so sharp!
8:15am Brushed my teeth. Now I have used my special kitten-whisker toothbrush twice, the softness is wearing off and my gums hurt like the Spanish Inquisition had been torturing me with heated irons.
8:22am Heard weather forecast on radio. Collapsed to floor. Terrible news! The air pressure has risen three millibars, and I do not know if I can withstand the terrible weight of the atmosphere, crushing me. And so another terrible day begins. When will my suffering cease?