I'm back on form, my friends! Floating on the Happy Pink Cloud.
Yesterday I went surfing. At one point I caught a big wave just right.
As I hurtled towards the beach I looked to my left, and there was #1, grinning like a maniac. I looked to my right, and there was an equally euphoric #2. And I let out an involuntary Whoop.
(This is not an odd English euphemism for farting. What I mean is that I found myself, accidentally, yelling WOOHOO! in a semi-orgasmic fashion)
Now, I am a jaded, middle aged bird who has lived rather too hard for too long, so I cannot remember the last time I did an involuntary Whoop.
For the last few years, not even getting plastered and throwing some shapes on the dance floor made me Whoop. There was always a nagging voice (however much I tried to drown it out) saying you'll pay for this tomorrow.
Not only had the drink lost its power to make me Whoop. It also took the Whoop out of pretty much everything else. Feeling hungover, and counting the hours until the next drink, are very much Anti-Whoop activities.
And, you know what? Life is too damn short not to Whoop.
So I say go out there, find what makes you Whoop, and do more of it. So long as it's vaguely legal and doesn't involve any addictive substances.
(If you're reading this on Day 1, or thereabouts, and the Whoop feels a very long way away, then don't panic. Baby steps. Be kind to yourself. You'll get there).