It lives!

  Today saw some major triumphs on the road to recovery. For the first time since Monday I put on proper, grown up, outdoor clothes and actually ventured outside my front door for a little walk in the sunshine. Amazing!

  Not only that, but without even realising what I was doing, I walked in to my kitchen and threw a little food together. Yehaa. You can see my modest efforts below and in case clarification is necessary, the cooking is the achievement part of that story.

  In other news, my mood is miserable and cantankerous, (So completely normal then. -Ed.) and though I've been able to go out for a walk, I haven't got the energy I'd need to ride a motorbike yet. Oh, I just realised I'm talking utter shite so before there are any more awkward silences I'm going to make polite excuses and fuck off.

  Who knows what gibberish I'll be spouting tomorrow but there's only one way to find out. Until then I'll be practicing my smokers cough. From the outside you'd think I've spent years squandering a fortune on Woodbines. From the inside, it's the last symptom on my path to recovery. Nearly there.

Kirk out

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