Boulderflies

Whilst my mid-life crisis rampages around, banging a discordrum and showing its arse to all and sundry, I find myself rather dazed by how much has changed over the last 12 months. Exactly a year ago, more or less to the minute as I write this, I was in Arizona sipping a toe-curlingly strong Margarita, moments after getting married to Matt. We had no idea whether he would even be able to come to London with me.

And then about a million things happened and now I am here wondering exactly what it all means. I feel like a train has been through my house. It is gone now but there is broken track and left luggage everywhere.

I turned the television on in the middle of a nature programme. The narrator said, “Every night this hummingbird almost dies.”

I am surprised you don’t see more people sitting in cars, crying.