My sister sent me a care package. Flow, chocolate and Lush bath oils.

I hadn’t heard of Flow before, but it’s a very pretty magazine and I’m enjoying reading it in bed. I’ve picked up a touch of agoraphobia but that tends to happen in the weeks after a big move. Technically, it’s more than a touch but I don’t want to be an alarmist. I can feel it moving on so I’m not too worried about it anymore.

My lymph nodes are still swollen but not as tender.

I submitted an opinion piece to a political blog I like, but now I’m feeling embarrassed and foolish. I hope it doesn’t get published. I would retract it but my mid-year resolution was to be more fearless. Oh well. If my worst fears manifest, I can use this experience as an example of why I should listen to my body more often.

Sleeping is difficult. Late morning to afternoon is the only time I feel cool and exhausted enough to have a decent nap. Night time is restless thoughts. And odd behaviour, like applying to do a science GCSE.

As of today, my mother has been alive for seven decades. She’s twice my age. It feels significant. She adopted me thirty-five years and one month ago. Numbers are in my head a lot.