Monday 26th October - the last 26th October of my 40s, indeed every day from now until 26th October next year will be the last one of my 40s. My last 40-something Christmas, Easter, August Bank Holiday, F.A Cup final et al all face me in the coming year. With that thought in the forefront of my mind, I decided that I should do my best to make next 364 days ones to remember.
So how did I begin this momentuous year? I went to work of course. With age comes a sense of responsibility - there were reports to complete that couldn't be postponed for the sake of my birth celebrations. Not to miss out completely, I'd arranged to have a couple of drinks with work mates after work, followed by a takeaway with Harvey when I got home. Even those humble celebrations were not to be.
I was feeling ill when I woke up and as the morning went on felt myself getting worse. By lunchtime I was done for and headed for the doctors who gave me a prescription for antibiotics and sent me home to rest - so much for the drinks. The takeaway got taken away too - Harvey was sent to review the Noisettes gig that evening (he asked if I minded him going, I said no).
So, the afternoon of my birthday was spent wrapped in a blanket on the sofa and the evening eating a cheese roll and crisps for dinner, alone with the cat, watching Jane Austen's Emma on iPlayer.
The worrying thing is, apart from feeling ill, I was quite content.
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