Whenever I go into the kitchen my left arm raises of its own accord. Then in one smooth, subconscious movement my index finger extends and flicks on the kettle. More often than not I will switch the kettle on as Ipass through the kitchen, do whatever it is that I'm on my way to do as it boils away by itself, then flick it on again as I make my way back.

It can go on like this for hours until my brain catches up with my body's need for its regular Java injection.

By this time of course there is very little left in the kettle, so I have to fill it up again and flick it back on to boil.

And so it goes on.

While this forgetful routine means I don't drink as much coffee as my body would like, it also means I don't drink very much during the day at all. Which, according to Jane Scrivner, author of Water Detox, is probably why I feel so pooped all the time.

She claims drinking eight glasses of water a day can help fight fatigue (got that), headaches (and those), dry skin (that too), cellulite (ooh yes), weight gain ('fraid so) and stress (put a tick in that box too).

So I decided to see if a day away from the kettle did me good.

Here's what happened.

Glass 1: Bit of a bad start I'm afraid.

I was still half asleep after a night soothing a three-year-old with what sounded suspiciously like a 40-a-day smoker's cough, and my Frosted Shreddies were just begging to be accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee. But - thank goodness! - I managed to kick the entire mug of coffee across the living room carpet and had to make do with the H2O instead.

Glass 2: Bigger is definitely better. I decided that one big glass would be more convenient than lots of little ones - heaven forbid that I actually got some exercise tripping to and from the fridge to fill up. I don't know whether it has some deep psychological meaning, but in the end I decided to drink my water out of a pint glass pilfered from York Beer Festival in 1995. What do you think that could possibly mean?

Glass 3: The hallucinations kick in. After a morning bumbling about the house, working and drinking what felt like gallons of water, I decided it was time to spruce myself up a bit. Not least because I bear an uncanny resemblance to Ken Dodd if I don't comb my hair.

As I left the bathroom, with my now empty glass in hand, a quick glance in the mirror brought me up short. My skin looked noticeably softer. I couldn't even see the shocking pink spot that had travelled through time from my teenage years and mysteriously implanted itself on my chin in the night. In fact, my entire face looked pleasantly fuzzy round the edges.

It was a miracle! Or so I thought until I blundered blindly into the bedroom and tripped over what I thought was a cat but was actually a pair of slippers. As I sat stroking the suedette footwear on the bed, I realised my striking change of appearance was not a miracle at all, I had just put both contact lenses in one eye.

Glass 4: A wee bit too much water, I think. Four large glasses of cold water and an hour-long traffic jam on the A64. Let's just say the long grass by the side of the road looked tempting and leave it at that.

Glass 5: Fighting fit or fit to drop? I did feel pretty good at the end of the day and was definitely less tired and drained than normal. Unfortunately, I woke up with a streaming cold the next day, but it is safe to say that had less to do with my water intake and more to do with failing to fight off a small sneezing boy determined to give me a big snotty kiss. He's strong for a little 'un!

Since then my good intentions have floundered and I'm back down to about two glasses of water a day - but it's better than none I suppose. My problem is that I just love my coffee.

Which reminds me: does anyone know how to get a coffee stain, roughly the same size and shape as the Isle of Wight, out of an oatmeal-coloured carpet?

Answers on a postcard please.

Updated: 09:34 Tuesday, May 28, 2002