A combination of an ill-timed text and a question about which of my parents I’m most like is a bad one, designed by the fates to send me spinning out of control.

I’m glad to say I have mostly regained it. Which shows how far I’ve come, I suppose.

On the other hand, I joked that I don’t like to think what I’m like. Except that’s true, because I don’t like it most of the time.