I have a broken tooth and because of the backlog it can't be sorted for six months. I am on tenterhooks that it might crumble any day now. I take things one vinegar-soaked chip at a time.
My account has been passed to a debt collection agency. I ask myself if they are allowed to knock on my door – and wonder, if they do, will they be disappointed at the meagre offerings on display.
Being held back has opened my eyes to how much I have held myself back my whole life.
I have discovered nowhere new after last year's revelations on my daily walk. The same peaceful spaces, the same river, speckled with rain or sunlight, depending on Glasgow's four seasons in one day.
I pause, sit on a bench, say Hello to a stranger's dog that is sniffing not at me but something that must be truly wonderful by my feet.
I breathe, and think, how many things I could not do back when, I still have not done.
Being alive, at this moment in time, is damn fine. It is a wonder of possibilities.