Sometimes when things are going well for me I don’t appreciate it at the time. I worry too much, or I take it for granted. It’s only later, when things aren’t as good, or when the worry is no longer an issue, that I look back and think, ‘Christ, that was a good time, that. I wish I could go back and enjoy it more.’ But I remember being aware of how much I was enjoying it while it was happening. I remember thinking, ‘This isn’t a rose-tinted memory. I’m enjoying this right here and fucking now. This is the life.’
