Oddly as I get older I find it easier to confess I like Robbie Williams. I never had a problem admitting my liking for Gary Barlow, but Robbie? Come on, Robbie? But the lilting sound of Something Stupid melts my heart.
You know, I'm a fortunate woman. Opportunities offer themselves to me. I got to marry the love of my life, and I got to do the most important thing in the world for him, be next to him for 9 months while he approached death. I got to love him until death did us part. That's pretty amazing, he was pretty amazing, and for a while, I was pretty amazing too.
I got to work in a job people would have given their eye teeth for. I know this. Some told me. And now I'm in another job which again is the quiet envy of a few particularly weird obsessive people. And I'll take that.
I get to live in a place which people want to be in, and I can't fault it. Except it isn't somewhere good to ride my bike, so I'm moving to somewhere that is. I'm doing the thing where if I feel scared, I'm substituting the word with "excited". I've already tried that one on my mum. She bit.