It's my birthday.
I'm 42, which is either the answer to life, the universe and everything...
Or the age when your everyday conversation starts to include terms like "mortgage", "patio", "pension", "you're-too-young-to-understand" and "I'm-not-racist-but...."
Or the age when all the idiotic opinions you had at 21 magically become mature insights gained through experience.
Or possibly the time you get a strange urge to cheat on your partner because if you leave it any longer you won't be able to, somehow.
Or...the time by which you've not just moved away from your parents, but found an excuse to live in a different town.
Or the time when you start to define yourself by your job, not your impossible ambitions.
Well, I don't have a mortgage or a pension, I'm the one married men cheat with, and I've moved back in with my parents. So there.
My impossible ambition involves a new laptop, some old software, and a month to record an album.
But it is my birthday so...there will be cake.