Reproduced from The Mirror 13 December, 1997

I stumble to the bathroom. Thankfully, my wife and the kids are asleep. What I don't want is anyone up when I am. I'd go crazy. The radio show was once looking for a new weather girl and my wife, Ingrid, said to me that she could do that. So she could, but there was no way I could've coped with us having to drive to work in the same car. We'd have had flaming rows all the way there. I'm sure she's never forgiven me.

No breakfast, just a slug of coffee. On the first morning I did the radio show, Ingrid got up and made me a full breakfast. I couldn't cope. She's never done it since. I go up and kiss her and the kids on the head. They're fast asleep but they love to ask me later on in the day if I did kiss them.

The car comes to collect me. I scan all the papers looking for quirky little stories as I cruise up the A3. It doesn't matter what newspaper it is, I can guarantee that the crazy items are always going to be in the same place. I'll find the piece on the alleged alien landing on someone's lawn before noticing that Russia has been invaded.

I'm looking at my watch wondering if we'll arrive at the studio in time. I've only ever been late once and I started the programme from the car phone because an accident had held us up. Kenny Everett, God bless him, used to make brilliant 20-minute tapes which said things like, "Hello, sweeties, sorry I'm not here yet ..." and so on. They'd play it until he arrived. Perhaps I should do something like that.

I drive straight into the studio. It's marvellous. No make-up required. There are no pre-show meetings. Guns N' Roses play in your ear and you're off. Some records are selected for me and the oldies I choose the day before. I'm wide awake now. I might try and grab a bacon sandwich between records being played, but that's all. And gallons of coffee.

Might manage a dash to the loo. When I broke my leg it was agonising. I couldn't move. The average record lasts about three minutes and I could barely make it to the studio door in that time, never mind get to the toilet. I sat there for three and a half hours with my voice getting squeakier and me turning various shades of crimson.

I finish the programme, have a quick chat about the next day's show, and then rush out of the studio to a waiting car. I've got a couple of voice overs to do and, fortunately, the locations are nearby. I'll probably take a few calls on the car phone on the way.

I've got these voice overs down to a fine art. I won't have seen the script beforehand. I belt into the building and find about 30 people sitting there who have each written a word of the script. Perhaps that's an exaggeration. All I need say is something like, "The sale starts today. Be there!" Then I rush out.

I've got a meeting with Pete Waterman, the record supremo to discuss a record project to celebrate 25 years of Commercial Radio. Things like this can't be rushed and we need to cover a lot of detail.

I arrive at Harper Collins, my publisher. Because I've got a book out there are discussions about sales figures, a programme of interviews to be arranged and also outlining where I've got to do book signings in the future.

A short break to down a couple of sandwiches and a beer. I like the local pubs because while I talk to members of the public every day on the radio, this is the chance to see them in their natural habitat. I'm driven to the London Weekend Television studios where I'm recording a new series of Tarrant On TV. We tend to do a couple of shows each day for pre-recording.

I start doing rehearsals for the shows, going through the clips and making certain that everything is going to run smoothly. This'll last about one and a half hours.

Sometimes, my wife comes into the dressing room with our children and we all sit and have a chat. The kids go through my wardrobe and collapse laughing at some of my clothes saying, "You're not going to wear that, are you?" It can be a bit off-putting. Kids always laugh at their parents' clothes.

I'll have been taking phone calls and discussing things about my other business, the clothes chain, Made In Italy.

The studio audience is let in and I sit in the dressing room watching them arrive on the monitor and seeing what sort of crowd we've got for the evening. If only they knew.

After a bit of a warm up, we're filming the shows.

A drive to one of the Made In Italy shops where I've got to meet sales people and suppliers and maybe pose for some photographs.

I arrive home, ready for bed, but I'll sit and have a drink with Ingrid first. There was a time when the kids used to wander into the bedroom and say, "Who's that sleeping with Mummy?".