Fat days can be compensated for with a Wonderbra, a pair of magic knickers and a good blow-dry. After a tough day at work, it's our prerogative to spend two hours in the bath, hidden in pomegranate fragranced foam. Our higher body-fat ratio means we get tipsy quicker and more cheaply - saving extra cash for Topshop splurges. We don't have to do the asking out (but we can if we want to) We can indulge in marathon back-to-back sessions of Brothers & Sisters, Ugly Betty and The X Factor and not get laughed at by our friends. We never have to worry about catching anything important in the zip of our jeans. We're first off any sinking ship. (Could be very useful one day.) Unlike men, who become aroused seven times a day, we don't get uncomfortable impromptu erections during sales meetings. We can guilt-trip men into giving us their seats on public transport. To us, the Gillette adverts are hilarious rather than the Holy Grail of manhood. Half of us own more than 30 pairs of shoes - that's one gorgeously glamorous pair for every day of the month. Our pride isn't damaged for life if we're unable to put up shelves or rewire a plug. Multiple orgasms. (Need we say more?) We're happy to ask for directions rather than drive five times around a one-way system muttering, "I know exactly where we are . . ." If we haven't shaved, we can wear trousers to cover the evidence. British women live almost five years longer than men. So next time he complains about how long you spend in the bathroom, tell him you've got time to burn. We can happily scream all the way through horror films without being labelled a wimp. Our hungover skin can be disguised with light-reflecting beauty products and a quick swipe of blusher. When we wear our man's clothes, we look elfin and cool. If he nicks our clothes, he looks like something out of Little Britain. We know exactly why a spritz of lynx is nothing like an adequate replacement for a decent chat-up technique. Two words: Johnny Depp. Thank God for PMS. We can throw a total wobbly about him watching too much football and then legitimately blame it on our fluctuating hormones. We're far less likely to get excessive nostril hair . . . . . . or go bald . . . or have hair growing out of our ears! Research proves that we are happier, more cheerful and more satisfied than men at work - and it's not just down to a daily sighting of the ultra-cute postboy.