Some people would suggest that you should “do one thing a day that scares you”. While I have yet to meet any of these people, I can generalize them enough to conclude that these are people with both a warped sense of self-empowerment and a schedule much more open than my own.

I could certainly work some memorable events into my seemingly short days if I wanted to qualify as one of these people- For example, instead of throwing myself onto the bus each morning, I could throw myself in front of it; Or perhaps I could meander down a set of stairs backwards each day and see what gravity has in store for me. Things I can’t see myself doing, of course, but the option is always there…

But for people who would rather be reminded that they are going to die as opposed to being reminded that they are currently alive, there are Bucket Lists - another project I don’t particularly want to involve myself in. But if I was to write up my “To do before I die” list while I sat in the hospital waiting room with half a bus embedded in my torso, I know exactly what would be at the very top of the list:

• Drink a Cookie Box milkshake.

It’s difficult to go a weekend in Belfast without tripping over one of those little cups of sweetened fat, consumed religiously by those who cannot afford to get a Jack Wills related tattoo etched into their forehead because they’ve spent all their money in Hollister, and if those little cups are going to be the death of me, then it’ll be for a clogged artery and not a broken neck. 

On the other hand -after a sickening thought about fat content- perhaps swimming with sharks is a more appealing opener to my non-existent Bucket List…