How lucky am I?Over the past few days, I've swum in the Men's pond, given blood, had a juicy call from France, received work from Cologne and LA, had two coaching clients (amazing!), been part of a very enjoyable 'Goatsong: The Improvised Greek Tragedy' show, which rocked my bones with pleasure, hung out with Ruth, then sweet and funny Emily Moon for a proper few hours and then hung out with some of her lovely friends too.
I bumped into a friend from a past era and walked her dog with her across the Heath. I breaststroked my way through masses of leaves one day and gentle mist beneath blue skies the next. I've eaten three croissants (two plain, one almond) and I've laughed with any number of people, both known to me and not. I've had a go on countless brilliant dogs, from a MASSIVE protector belonging to a homeless man in Muswell Hill to a tiny ten-week chihuahua puppy no bigger than a baguette. I walked a (fairly long) path with a random lady and her two door-slam-faced Westies. I've received very lovely texts from lots of people too, and have enjoyed exchanging a string of pleasing messages with The Chump.
So much more to come. This coming week is 'mental'. It really is. In the happiest of ways. I caught myself fretting earlier - I hadn't got up in very good time - and even though that was my actual plan, because I need to catch up and sleep longer, I still felt cross with myself. And I have a few tricky-ish decisions to make. And do you know what? It's all just fine. How good is my life right now? How very, very grateful am I? Fuck's sake!
I'm grateful to have been reminded of that. Things are pretty good, really. Pretty excellent. I get to live this, and to remember that.
That's how lucky.
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