January 1 - in which we have just half a day and a hangover to contend with in our quest to do kind deeds

I'm woken late by Lorren with a steaming hot mug of coffee. "Is that your Random Act of Kindness for today, then?" I ask. She thinks about for a minute or so and then says, no, she doesn't think it counts because she'd have done it anyway. Hmmm. These pre-conditions on our RAKs are going to make it tough work. Another thing that's going to make it tough is that it's already 12 o'clock (we were out celebrating New Year's Eve last night, obviously). Half the day has already gone, and I haven't even met anyone to perform an RAK on. I'm still in bed. And I have a hangover. This is not a good start.

We make it down to the hotel pool (we're spending the New Year in the Canaries for that bit of winter sunshine - the bit that helps you get through to spring without wanting to die from how cold and miserable it is throughout January and February).

I try smiling weakly at a couple of people to try to brighten their day, but it doesn't appear to have the desired effect. Unsurprising as I look like a particularly unappetising sort of ghoul. We lie on the sunbeds, blissfully undisturbed, and it is here we encounter the next major difficulty with performing Random Acts of Kindness. To whit, that they're incredibly difficult to perform if (a) you're not actually doing anything or going anywhere and (b) you're not actually having any real contact with other people. L asks if I can get her something from her room, and I jump up with alacrity to perform the favour. Alas - it doesn't count - she'd asked for the favour and I'd responded to that, so it wasn't random or spontaneous or unasked. I slump back on the sunbed, frustrated. Suddenly a toddler's ball flies out of his grasp and rolls slowly towards the pool - and I leap into action. "Don't worry, I've got it" I shout to the collection of sun-worshipping Germans and Scandinavians lazing unperturbed poolside. I grab the ball, still some way off the edge of the pool, and hand it back to its rightful owner, earning a big stare from him and a smile from his rather attractive young mother. Damn. Now I'm wondering whether the attention of the attractive young mum might be considered prior motivation and have compromised my RAK. But I'm rationalising too much here. I didn't see the mum until after I'd retrieved the ball. RAK saved! However, I don't mention the attractive mum when recounting the incident later on to L.
"How did you do?" I ask. "Oh God, I don't think I really did one random act of kindness," she admits. "I think your morning cup of coffee will have to count after all."