My house by the sea to the sound of ropes pinging against boat masts and gulls on the roof. Instant coffee, white toast and watching The Wright Stuff in bed. It’s my last day! If I haven’t done it yet I don’t want to cram it all in now.

The rest of that night is a feverish blur. I asked to talk to my mom; had a slice of chocolate cake; prayed. I remember waking up every few hours and seeing my mother praying by my bedside, then every nurse in the hospital, and then every cleaning staff member who loved my father for his kindness toward them throughout the years — all praying for me.

I would stop working out right away. I wouldn’t lift another weight, I wouldn’t run another mile. I would sit on my ass and eat as many cookies as I could find.

No, I’m completely out of reading scripts. This has become a surreal experience. My days are unpredictable. I used to think my life would be like that, but I could never practice unpredictability and spontaneity. That has happened now. I don’t plan. I go for breakfast and then I don’t have a plan. I take things as they come. That has been really helping me a lot. I don’t make plans. I’m just spontaneous. And I’m loving this experience. There was something missing in my life. I was feeling a little manipulated by myself, by my own mind. There was a kind of disharmony in myself. It was bothering me. And I think this is what I was missing, this spontaneity. I know because we live in a world that is packed with plans, it sounds unrealistic. How could you live your life like that? But life is so mysterious and has so much to offer, we don’t really try things. And I’m trying and I’m loving it. I’m in a really fortunate state.