Waking up and remembering it's still real. Trying to work out whether it's disrespectful to carry on as normal, or dishonourable to their memory to not. Manchester is my hometown and for once, I just don't have the words.
It's podcast day. There's flowers on the window sill. Orla is shouting me from downstairs asking for more chocolate spread. I guess we soak in our small, incredibly fortunate pleasures and slowly move on.