It's no (big) secret that I am a television addict - you name it. That's me, watching Forensic Files, House, NCIS, Doctor Who and underlying it all, is my addiction to reality tv. Both Banana and Pat have admitted to the latter as much, which means I am not alone, fighting my way through the quagmire.

But you know when things have got really bad, when they invade your dreams. Last night, Richard was in my dream, dressed in a sailors outfit whilst he and the others were being tested by Donald Trump. The latter happened to be a US Marine, who taught them how to cook and then expected them to prove themselves in combat and save a man's life. Totally bizarre as some of the BB housemates looked extraordinarily hideous in their get-ups, whilst Nikki had a tantrum and Lea brimmed out of her uniform.

Apparently it's bad when aspects of non-reality infect your sleep. When I taught English in Japan, I was so worried about my lesson structure and abilities, that I started deconstructing the day in my dreams, correcting my spelling, grammar and writing my own homework on the board. Most disconcerting as in my dreams, my students had better English than I.

I'm somewhat thankful that BB ends in a week - maybe my dreams will get back to normal. But then I will have the added problem that there will be, in no doubt, a new reality show around the corner.

Now if only Musicality came back, I might even join in.