Mondays: bit rubbish, aren't they? Bob Geldof plain didn't like 'em. Dave Edmunds, when asked, expressed a preference for the weekend. New Order took to 12 inch to voice their antipathy. Both (a) The Mamas and (b) The Papas felt that you "can't trust that day". If there was a Favourite Day Of The Week category on olde style Family Fortunes, the answer "Monday" would surely elicit that notorious raspberry noise.

BIM -- Big Important Meeting -- at 10:30am today, all of us gathered around a speaker phone. Blah blah debts blah blah restructure blah blah job losses. What was that last bit again? Redundancies across the board, everyone affected to be notified today. Crikey. Nobody wants to catch the eye of anyone else in the room. All this before the first cafetiere of the day.

Those of us who've been with The Company for a few years are somewhat battle-hardened, having been through this selfsame experience more than once. Worst of these was the first time in 2008 when, unannounced, Big Boss Man turned up from that London in his fancy vintage car. Now he's a good guy, but it quickly became obvious that something was afoot. He installed himself next door, scene of this morning's BIM, and called the deskphone of my colleague sitting opposite. Come and have a chat, he said. Cue the walk of death for the unfortunate individual. When the shellshocked party emerged, another nearby phone rang, and so the morning progressed, all of us twitching like the keenest of birdwatchers. After that, those of us lucky enough to still be in gainful employment would joke about hearing Bill's Bentley (name and make changed to protect his identity).

Or there was the highly motivating day in late 2009 when another BIM was called with the news that further posts were to go: no classic car downstairs this time, but we were warned to look out for an email from HR. That crafty ploy from inhuman resources transferred our Pavlovian fear from the phone to the Outlook "bing". Did the fortunate few receive a quick note to say "don't worry, you're safe"? Nope.

Same story today: the news will come by email. Most of us, being 21st century hi-tech workers, get a fair few of these, so nerves were jangling. Nobody could say when the dreaded electronic dismissal might arrive. By lunch? Possibly. By 2pm? Maybe. By 4:30pm? Yes, half-four it is, convenient for those who get in early and are packing up by that time. May propose to those upstairs that the next round of Russian roulette be in the form of the game Killer Wink: if the boss looks your way, you're out. Or, like picking the chorister to do Once In Royal St David's City, that everyone in the room close their eyes, and you better hope that your shoulder isn't tapped by management.

Sympathies to the Monday Four who got some unwelcome news today. Austerity, posterity.

More than three years back, four of us took tea at the Tea Pot at 46 High Street on the square. Mid-2011, three of us lunched at the relocated Teapot Tea Room at 70a High Street off the square. Early 2012, two of us -- we are hardcore -- returned to the original location to check out the latest incarnation.

Cafe 46 is the catering component of Vintage Forty-Six, the place for your "modern decorative collectables", it says here. Can't comment on how much it's changed inside since we ate outside in 2008. Today, however, is of the filthy wet variety, so in we tootle. Struck by the pleasing ambience: chalk specials on the board, papers laid out, old wooden furniture, Jamie Oliver salt and pepper (if that dresses your salad), retro signage on the walls. Here's a key difference from the Teapot: we were greeted with a smile from the ladies behind the counter. Hello!

Right, what to have? Andy's in like Flintoff and goes for the three cheese on toast with chutney. I was gonna have that. Time to turn some tables and sip some soup. Good leek and potato, great corn bread on the side, and a generous portion too. Unlike Andy's single flat-ish piece of cheesy bread. Tasty if stingy. At least he was able to use the free WiFi.

Place filled up during our savoury course. That done, it's back to the counter of promises to be talked through the treasury of sweet temptations. Carrot cake can't be denied for either of us, and it's top notch, as is the highly caffeinated flat white. Sorry, Teapot: it's Cafe 46 by a knockout.

If it was a car -- Morgan Aero 8.
If they were passing by -- Tim Lovejoy.

Big, big game tonight, the equivalent of the Manchester derby, with the team in first place (us!) up against the team in second (Hadleigh). Thinking of the bigger picture, Andy gracefully deselected himself leaving Ed, Kennedy and Steve. If any extra motivation were needed, Hadleigh's team included one Mick Pollard, unbeaten this season. Tasty. In brief:

• maximum for Ed -- yes! -- spinning past Mick's pimply penhold in the opening encounter before looping round good ol' Ken and Rupert
• brace for Kennedy, losing 11-8 to Mick in the fifth end but doing well to knuckle down and defeat Ken over five ends
• none for Steve, his first duck this year: lost 11-9 to Ken in the fifth end of an epic match with four deuces, then succumbed to Mick and Rupert

Ahead 5-4 going into the doubles, 10:30pm, and the Ed/Kennedy combination blew hot and cold against that of Ken/Mick, a clash of styles more than evident. Inevitably down to the fifth end on a long night, 5-4 ahead at the change of ends, and they didn't win another rally. That'll be 6-4 to us and consolidate our Etihad-esque position.

me: So, is B. coming?
E: Yep, I said we'd pick her up.
me: Fine. Rose, you ready to go?
R: Nearly. Is it alright if I. comes too?
me: Er, yeah, I suppose so.
G: Really? That'll be seven of us. You know we'll never fit those chairs in?!
me: It'll be fine.

[on the road at 6pm, arriving Ikea Thurrock at 7:15pm -- easy peasy -- and straight into restaurant for mandatory meatballs, then the obligatory meander through the showrooms while parking bottoms on assorted dining chairs, finally hitting the self-service warehouse around 9:15pm]

me: Right, aisle 11. There they are. How many are we buying?
G: Well, six if they've got them.
me: Er, they've got four. No, five. I guess we're taking the lot.

[pulls out first cardboard box, not a convenient rectangle but an almost perfect and unwieldy 80cm square, and stacks five of 'em on the industrial trolley before heading for the till and out to the car]

me: OK, everyone in the car and let's see what space we've got.
G: They won't fit. No way.
me: [watches as kids 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 quickly fill up the car] We shall see. Mind your feet in the back, chair number 1 coming through.
R: It's squishing our feet. Can't you move your chair forward?

[after five minutes, a grand total of three boxed chairs are wedged into the car, leaving only two in the car park]

me: Anyone got any scissors or a penknife? No? Bear with me, this won't take long.

[uses front door key to rip tape from remaining two boxes and begins to stack contents on the concrete, then painstakingly slots chair legs, seats and small packs of screws into available boot space; satisfied that boot will close, nervously glances right at pile of photo frames, storage boxes and tealights: further shuffling ensues]

me: [gingerly closes boot and climbs in to slightly cramped driver's seat] See?

Meet 12:30 at the electric charging points, he says. I'm over there for 12:35 and it's blinkin' parky. Eventually I call him at 12:40. Leaving now, he lies. There's more to life than time, you know, but not much more. It's agreed that we should point the motor due east towards that there Ipswich.

Influence of Friday the 13th directs us to a corking parking spot (as per K's Coffee Lounge last week) by the under-construction Travelodge on Duke Street. Over there is the more than acceptable Cafe Marina. Up there is the so-so Something Yummy. Over here is the as yet undetermined Bella Napoli. Quick run through of those Italian credentials on the signage:

• pizza -- yes
• pasta -- definitely
• chips -- maybe
• panini -- probably

Now 1pm and the joint, it jumps: mostly student age (UCS is over the road) but not all. Pizza boxes -- ooh, lots of Scrabble points -- clamber to the ceiling. Large overhead menu also lists risotto and jackets. A moment or two of decision paralysis, then we're done and sat by the window sipping refrigerated beverages.

Feels like the best part of 10 minutes before our orders emerge. Yum, big steaming bowl of penne with spicy sausage for me, while Andy's panini is "the best I've had". High praise: top bread, he says. Hadn't anticipated this level of freshness and fulness. Boyton Boy has room for pudd and goes for the tiramisu, which is delivered with a swish and poshly presented on a plate. I'll settle for a latte and that's good, too. Until there's a Cafe Bencotto in Ipswich, Bella Napoli will suffice.

If it was a car -- Alfasud.
If they were passing by -- Simon Calder.

First week of the second half of the season and the Bright Stars are out tonight. Somehow we never quite got round to playing them in the first half, despite that being our very first scheduled game. They're here now in the form of younger brother Peter, older brother Matt (previously) and wildcard Eddie. In brief:

• maximum for jet-lagged Kennedy, just in from Kennedy NY
• maximum for Ed, just in from Columba House
• brace for bad-back Andy, losing over the full 5 ends to Fast Eddie

Good-natured game though hard to hear yourself think (and indeed the score) what with Ansons and Comets going at it on the other table. Oh, should probably mention that our 9-1 win puts us top!

CHO is for chocolate for which I'm a junkie
Could I give it up? On my back, there's a monkey
A Twirl with a cuppa: the ultimate dunky
But top of the pops must be KitKat's large single finger bar

LES is for less, must cut down on the fat
Avoid trans and polys, choose mono-unsat
No more late night snacks being watched by the cat
Less sweets and less cake? Do I not like your proposal

TER is for terminal: live with the knowledge
Your health is at risk: did you not go to college?
Buy lentils from Ipswich and mixed nuts from Norwich
And for breakfast each day, have a big bowl of warmed rolled oats

OL is for olives, take all that you wish
From the Mediterranean diet, pick a dish
You eat enough fruit? Well, five a day, -ish
Most important of all, try to eat mackerel, pilchards and sardines