This is probably my eighteenth attempted blog that I probably won't maintain and almost certainly nobody will read. Still, sometimes routine is comfort.
It was my 26th birthday yesterday - I am sure this is significant. It was largely a horrible day. I seemed to be caught up in an ugly set of confrontations with a professional associate; it was hot and sticky but not really sunny; I felt like a social lemon on more than occasion and I ate too much cake. Still, breakfast in bed (croissants and muesli) was lovely, as was the overall reality of having my first birthday as a dad.
Nell (now just shy of ten weeks old) even managed to buy me series one of The Wire on DVD as a present. She's a precocious little thing. They give credit cards to anyone.
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