2020 rolled in like most years before it, with me on a plane. Between work and holidays, the second half of 2019 had felt like I was away more than I was home. We flew home on New Year’s Day having spent the holidays with my parents. I had no idea at the time that it might be both my first and last flight of the year. All the 50th birth-year celebration plans – parties in Ibiza, Olympics in Japan – blown away like leaves in a monsoon wind. Overnight, my relationships with a host of organisations went to zero.
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