AUNTY AG UNCLE ONY

I joined a local gym in the spring, and I've managed to stick with it for six months now. I'm definitely getting fitter, but the problem is that I really like one of the instructors. The thing is that he only ever sees me red-faced, gasping and dripping with sweat, which obviously isn't very alluring. What can I do?

Amanda, Reading

Aunty Ag: The whole point of going to the gym is to get hot and sweaty and unalluring. The only people who don't are those who belong to that annoying tribe who don't need to work out and go simply to pose in Lycra leotards, and instructors don't tend to like them because they don't try hard enough. Ask him if he'd like to go for a drink somewhere outside the gym where you can turn up in your usual cool, glamorous incarnation. However, a word of warning: professional fitness types tend not to drink or have fun because their bodies are temples, so don't be too disappointed if he's a let-down outside the fitness room.

Uncle Ony: Your feelings for this man are akin to a schoolgirl crush on a teacher: a figure in a position of authority to whom you look up because he is an expert. Do you know anything at all about this man's personality or have you been blinded by his triceps? He is probably propositioned on a regular basis by other starry-eyed gym-goers. Try to find a man you can get to know properly before starting to fantasise about him.

I haven't booked my holiday yet for this year and time is slipping away. However, I'm reluctant to arrange anything, simply because of the horrendous few days before you go away when everything at work goes mad and you have to sort stuff out in advance and you feel it's not worth going. Then there's all the worry of wondering if everything is being done properly while you're away. Then there are the horrendous few days when you come back spent thinking you'll never get back into the swing of things and you wish you'd never taken time off. At this rate I'll never go anywhere. Is this some kind of holiday phobia?

Sue, via e-mail

Aunty Ag: If you feel that strongly, you'd better stay in the office, getting paler and tenser and more bad-tempered by the minute, annoying everyone else with your martyred stance. You're obviously thoroughly uptight anyway, so don't you think you might as well be in the same state having had a break than not having had one? If you won't do it for your own sake, do it for your workmates, who will probably welcome your absence for a few weeks.

Uncle Ony: Your anti-holiday stance is extremely arrogant. Do you really think your workplace will collapse if you're not there? You have distinctly over-controlling tendencies and should urgently consider this facet of your personality. Deal with it.

I'm the older daughter in my family, and my younger sister has always been a ne'er-do-well. I worked hard at school, went to university, qualified as a doctor, married and have since had three children. I have to work very hard but I have always thought I was happy. My sister, meanwhile, dropped out of school before the sixth form, lived in a squat, had a series of dead-end jobs and had a baby at 17. Even though she's been able to claim benefits, she has always needed financial handouts from me and my parents, which we have always happily given. Now she has won a six-figure sum on the lottery! She is off to live in Greece! I know it is unworthy but I am suddenly deeply jealous.

MB, Bristol

Aunty Ag: Look on the bright side. You'll always have somewhere to go on holiday now. And you won't be called on for financial contributions for some time: it's cheap to live in Greece. For goodness' sake, don't let her see how you feel - she'll die laughing.

Uncle Ony: When we first set out on our chosen roads, we cannot tell how they will twist and turn. You feel your steadfastness has not been recognised, while her fecklessness has been rewarded. However, the only thing that has changed is her sudden acquisition of undeserved cash. All the things you've had good reason to feel proud of up to now remain unchanged; don't let them lose their lustre in your eyes beside the superficial glamour of the cash.

Send your problems to Aunty Ag and Uncle Ony at the Independent on Sunday, Canary Wharf, 1 Canada Square, London E14 5DL or agony@independent.co.uk