NOW I've heard it all. Personal trainers who keep you fit, house doctors who organise your home, personal eating trainers who monitor what you put in your mouth.

It's as if we can't think for ourselves any more.

And things are getting worse. Fridge doctors are the latest craze. Julia Roberts has one, apparently, to check that the contents of her fridge are sufficiently healthy.

This sort of stuff is obviously making a lot of people a lot of cash. So, as I'm never one to turn down a bob or two, I'm offering my skills with a few special services of my own.

All guaranteed to bring amazing results.

Knicker drawer doctor: We've all been there - and many of us are still there.

Every morning, in a still-sleepy state, you get up and reach inside your underwear drawer for a pair of tights to wear to work.

But instead of neatly-folded hosiery, out comes a congealed mass of tightly interwoven tights, socks, bras and assorted accessories. In no time at all, I could untangle the mess as well as designing and making a superb drawer organiser from old egg boxes and margarine tubs.

Purse doctor: If, like me, your purse is bursting at the seams with receipts, bus tickets and plastic cards, and it takes you ten minutes to find any cash, then you need help.

Using my own purse as an example (worst-case scenario), I would hold weekly workshops in which participants would move towards a life of purse-heaven, where plastic cards were neatly slotted into one place, notes into another and receipts were cleared out regularly.

Glove compartment doctor: I'm not too bad in this department. On a recent inspection mine contained only a cassette - sadly not Gareth - a can of de-icer, a torch and a parking disc.

But many are health hazards - bottomless pits of rotting, half-eaten Big Macs, leaking Biros, crusty old shammy leathers, torn road maps and fluff-covered boiled sweets.

Through the ancient Chinese art of Feng Shui and use of 15 key essential oils, I would turn this grim, grubby compartment into a scented space that will surprise and delight.

Pre-wash laundry doctor:: Everyone must, at one time or another, have stuffed jeans or shirts in the washing machine only to find the soggy remains of a £10 note in the pocket afterwards.

Or found the rest of the wash polluted by a tissue or a shopping list that was.

I would be there to turn out every pocket, pillow case and duvet cover - my mother recently had a pile of bedding stained red when a visitor left a serviette inside one of these. You could put the washer on in the certain knowledge that nothing would be blighted.

Of course, it would be laughable if people were to pay me for carrying out these relatively simple tasks.

But it's no crazier than reality - people forking out vast sums to have someone analyse the contents of their fridge.

The world has gone mad - is there anyone left who is sane enough to realise we are being had?