I went for a swim, which made me feel better. Better apart from a comedy-moment in which I sneezed mid-stroke - bubbles. lots. of. bubbles.
I sat in the steam room (more tidal snot) and had a think. Gave myself a mental talking to: I’m pretty lucky I have time to go to the pool, that I can work and look after the Bean and write a bit, however badly.
So already I was feeling a bit sheepish about having a moment, and then a message pinged in my facebook chat thingy. One of my closest friends is separating from her husband. They have a gorgeous boy of two-and-a-half, who is now separated from his daddy by a few continents. My friend has had to move back in with her mum.
Now my heart is breaking and I feel more than a little sheepish. I’m really, really bloody lucky. So Milan is wet and smoggy, so I can’t think of any way of introducing my little boy to leaves and bugs and animals but through books, so we have no idea where we’re going to end up in 17 months’ time. So what? It’ll be spring soon, and then we can go wherever we like. Together. What more could I possibly ask for?
My lovely friend, I'm so terribly sorry this is happening to you.