Beginning, badly

Well then.

Day one. I am writing this partly because somebody else's day-one entry is the reason I felt able to do it at all, and it seems only fair to leave one behind.

First entry addresses the irony directly.

So. First one done. I had been carrying the box around the house for four days like it was something I had borrowed and needed to give back, and in the end I did it standing up in the kitchen with the radio on.

I want to write this down before I forget how frightened I was, because I suspect in three months I will not believe it. Twenty minutes of standing there. Then eight seconds. Then it was over and I felt faintly ridiculous.

Dough proving.