It's a very strange day here at work, one of the quietest weekdays I've experienced for some time. That old cliche about the calm before the storm really is true. We're all poised waiting for the outbreak of war, and with the Corporation's newsgathering operation centred on the Gulf, there are very few other stories doing the rounds. And despite my own opposition to the war, I can't deny the excitement that accompanies the anticipation of the covering the year's biggest story.

In order to keep ourselves occupied, we've resorted to the journalist's favourite pastime of making tasteless jokes about serious situations. There's a sweepstake on when the first PA flash will appear about an attack on Iraq; we're racking our brains trying to come up with a suitably military-sounding operation name for covering the war; and what with so many journos being in the Middle East, I suggested filling primetime with a new reality TV show in which correspondents are set gung-ho challenges and viewers vote their least favourite out of the war zone.

It's not pretty, and I'm not proud, but it's the way the profession copes with being a conduit for so much depressing news.