Well, internets, what a long, strange week it's been. Last Saturday morning I woke up in hospital, post-ascitic drain; yesterday I woke up in a hotel room in Manchester, post-Springsteen. What a difference a day makes. Or seven. Whatever.
In between these two things, I had a birthday. A big number, but not an important one. I'd asked people not to make too much fuss about it since, without wanting to sound like…