"I rise from my trundle bed about... ooh, half-five. I've been doing early-morning radio for such a long time, it's second nature. My first incarnation was from 1972 until '84; then I was back again in 1993. I have very little patience for people who work in TV or radio and moan about the fact that they have to get up early. If you're not enjoying it, go and find another job.

Breakfast is based around a set routine — the most important bit is making sure I don't wake up my wife. I sneak out of the bedroom, have a shower, get myself ready, make coffee, have a Yakult and a banana. It's not that I'm on a diet — it's just that I don't really have time for much else. Things are very different at the weekends. The full English — or, should I say, the Ulster fry.

A driver picks me up every morning. Another little privilege. Another reason why I can't call what I do hard work. To be honest, though, I couldn't do a live radio show if I was driving 30 miles into London every day. Dealing with all that stress, then having to compose myself and be Johnny Jolly Pants.

I get to the BBC about five past seven. I switch on the lights, set up the machines, get the various cassettes ready. Paul, my producer, gets there about 25 past, with an armful of e-mails. Wake Up to Wogan gets about 600 a day, and he filters that down to about 200 — the more offensive and foolish they are, the better.

Isn't e-mail a wonderful thing? A lot of the listeners get computers purely to get in touch with the show. It used to be letters and postcards. Then faxes. Now people can interact instantly. We have our hardcore listeners: the Togs — Terry's Old Geezers. People have actually got married through Togs. It's extraordinary.

People say to me: "You're a man of advanced years. You're putting on a bit of weight. You do a two-hour live radio show every day of the week. You're still doing TV. How does your blood pressure cope?" Believe me, what I do takes very little ability. Let's face it, I'm not Paxman. I don't do any preparation for my radio show, and I only do about 20 minutes for most TV stuff — obviously, things like Children in Need are a bit different. Basically, I've always been good at compartmentalising the stress. Keep it to a minimum. For instance, I don't get involved in any of the behind-the-scenes stuff when it comes to television. All I do is turn up and talk foolishness for as long as they want me to. This job is supposed to be about having fun. And the money, of course.

I know I'm lucky enough not to have to worry about money. I feel very privileged. Just simple things, like being able to give my children a leg up onto the property ladder. Or nice holidays. I love spending money — on other people. But spending vast amounts on me just seems vulgar. I wasn't brought up like that.

After I finish with my radio show, I often won't eat until I get home. So I might not have anything between my breakfast and maybe two o'clock. There is a good reason for that: my wife's cooking. Living with her is like living in a Michelin-starred restaurant. I am a dreadful cook — like my mother. Lovely woman. Great sense of humour. Terrible cook. Anyway, if I'm paying for the food,
I don't expect to have to cook it as well.

I suppose we are a very old-fashioned, typically Irish household. Helen and I are products of a certain generation. You get married, you stay married. Helen in the kitchen, me in front of the TV. That's what I do when I'm back at home in the afternoon. I watch TV — even though there's not much that me and my listeners can really enjoy, apart from things like Prime Suspect and EastEnders.

I read the papers, maybe have a couple of hours' sleep if we're going out to a party in the evening. We have a great big garden — about 12 acres, with paddocks and an arboretum — but it's all my wife's work. I am very lazy. Anything for the easy life.

The evening meal is the big one. Helen has been doing this wonderful starter with haddock and poached egg. Then there's goat's cheese wrapped in parma ham. And monkfish with mustard sauce. Oh, and I can't forget the duck. She does the best duck in the entire universe. I love it at the weekends when she does the big Sunday lunch and we have the kids round. I do miss the kids. We still see a lot of them, I guess. Most weekends, there'll be one or more staying over. And with a couple of them married, I guess there are going to be grandchildren soon. I'll bet we see more of them after the kids arrive. The lure of cheap babysitters. I can't stand that Sunday-evening feeling, when it's time for them to set off for London. Suddenly it's all quiet and there's just me and Mrs Wogan. We miss them terribly.

Bedtime is between 10 and half-10, but if there's something I want to watch on telly, or if we've got friends round, I'll stay up. As long as I'm in bed for about half-12, I can manage. As you get older, you don't need as much sleep anyway.

I always sleep well. I've never been one of the guilty Irish. I don't lie there worrying about all the sins I'll need to confess. The Jesuits left their mark on me when I was 17, but my parents were always too cynical about religion for me to go for the whole worship thing. My wife's a believer, though. She won't pass a church without popping in to have a word with Him and light a candle. I tell her it's good that at least one of us is keeping up with the insurance policy. On my death bed, I might be very glad that she's kept that upstairs door open for me."