My gym has piped music everywhere: you can't escape it. It hits you as soon as you enter the door into the foyer and it follows you around the entire building. There is no relief. Even in the loos (where you go for relief), it's being churned out through ceiling speakers. The thing is: every time I go in there's Alanis Morrisette warbling away. Isn't it ironic? I'm beginning to wonder whether she's actually sitting there in the cubicle in the corner, guitar in hand, ready to strike up as soon as she hears my footfall. Do you think that next time it happens I should take a peek under the door to confirm my suspicions?