I'm addicted to fresh starts. New Year, school term, birthdays, new notepads, blank pages. Moving house a hundred times, Mondays, Spring cleans, starting again. Somehow I never lose the unfailing optimism that this time, I'll get it right.
This summer I've managed to go overboard. I left my husband, my job and my house. It's only taken me 24 years to realise that I'm never going to get everything right, no matter how hard I try (although it requires daily inner pep talks to remind myself of this) and I'm never going to be happy chasing after an ideal that doesn't exist.
My new life won't be perfect. Far from it, with two little monsters to keep tabs on, a business to run and a chronic illness to manage. It would be pretty bloody boring if it was! But it will be mine.
I'm hitting the refresh button one last time. Join me for the ride?
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