Paddle boarding sounded like a terrible idea last night, and that was before I woke up hungover and exhausted. Just the thought of it is sending shivers down my spine. I manage to shower and make it down for breakfast, but not even a full English has done anything to stop my head from pounding. Although my hangover is nothing compared to the one Miles has. He hasn’t managed to make it out of bed yet. I’m fully prepared to text Soph and the gang to tell them we’re going to have to give it a miss.

Alone at the breakfast table, I scroll through the news on my phone and then I check my emails and see that I missed a note to future self whilst we were in the pub. I click on it, pleased to be alone so that I can truly savour it. It feels even more poignant only being a few miles away from where I originally sat and wrote it.

Dear Edie,

How’s it all going in da future??? I know, I read it and cringed too. I know I am not 50 Cent and not cool enough to pull that off. But how are you? And how are the notes to self going? I hope that you have gone out of your way to do new things and well and truly stretched yourself – metaphorically, obvs – we don’t want any pulled muscles at your age. Are you all set for summer? It’s heating up here. The shorts are almost permanently on now and my legs, for the first time in years, have gone super brown. And they’re toned too. Who knew the secret to amazing legs was walking miles and miles round the holiday camp every day and never sitting still for more than five minutes?

But despite it being really busy, I’m totally learning how to play the system a bit better and have started to do a sneaky bit of reading whilst on reception. I’ve been reading this book, called Yes Man that Joel lent me, and it’s all about a guy who, unsurprisingly from the title, says Yes to everything he’s asked. Soph and I decided to give it a go, of course with the proviso of being able to say no to men -obviously! So this email’s note to self is to spend a day saying yes to more things.

Big love and sunshine kisses, Edie x x

‘Did you want some more bacon?’ asks the host of the guesthouse, bringing over a small casserole dish with a lid.

I’m about to instinctively refuse, as having to look out for Dad has made me watch what I eat too, even though I’m craving it, and then I stop: say yes more.

‘Yes, please,’ I say.

The woman seems pleased and scoops on another couple of rashers of steaming bacon onto my plate.