It is odd how much a weekend a home can steady a shaking soul, worn out with worry. I was stressing out on Friday, concerned about the short and long-term future. I had not been home in six weeks or thereabouts, and frankly it was showing. I think I needed a weekend at home, where the tea is made in a pot and the morning papers are on the coffee table.

Over the years my parents have had some rows, but through these I have learned both that they are wise, and that their love for me is infinite. I guess I needed reminding of this, for the future now seems…well, not less uncertain, but more comfortable. I know I am not alone, nor will I ever be. My parents want me to stand on my own two feet, yet it is paradoxically only with the knowledge that they are there, on my side, that I can do that. This morning, although I still have much to sort out, I feel less worried.

Mum and dad made a few suggestions, which I like the sound of, such as living in Crewe rather than Chester, which makes sense for several reasons. They also gave me a much needed reality check. In short they’ve saved me from the mire of gloom I was descending into (not that Chester is a mire, just that crewe is slightly more feasable).

Well, the day has begun. Time to cease it.