Never fear my obsession with stationery hasn’t waned but a brief sojourn to the hospital meant a mini break from writing the superlatives. The fog in my medicated brain gave me a respite from paper nerdiness and was replaced by the more primary need of just getting through the boxsets of prison break someone had kindly lent me to aid my recovery. I still managed to maintain an air of business efficiency and get all your Pagemarker orders out on time however. Checking my phone just before surgery to see someone had just ordered the “Me, Myself and I” journal, I pondered on the introspective nature of e-commerce and worried if waiting the next day to crawl to the post office may affect my Amazon approval rating. It wasn’t till I was back home that I thought about the what ifs of not coming back, or if I would be missed. I’ve written on here once before about the importance of recording your life as well as making it matter, not procrastinating, setting goals et al but it’s not until something happens to you, does it get personal. It made me realise that I have been afraid of intimacy for fear of seeming unprofessional. We forget there is humanity behind every corporation or situation we deal with and that it can be beneficial to share rather than appear aloof. For this I have to thank my anethistist who on discovering I planned to run a marathon this year showed me the Zombie Run training app on his phone whilst I was prostrate on the theatre trolley. Thankfully it didn’t give me nightmares and it awakened me to the power of being more human, even though I did feel like the living dead at times.