I’ve come to a slightly unsettling realisation. We are living in the future. Not the “hoverboards on every street and dinner in pill form” future that was promised, but still. The future nonetheless. I can stand in my kitchen, holding a small glowing rectangle, and ask it questions about literally anything. And it answers me. Not always correctly, mind you, but confidently, which is arguably more impressive. It got me thinking. Is this actually the future we imagined, or just the one we ended...

People are often surprised when I tell them I get nervous before shows. Not a fluttery, butterflies-in-the-stomach nervous. A proper nervous. The kind where I deliberately don’t join in the warm-ups. Where I quietly remove myself from the group. Where, if you tried to chat to me moments before I go on stage, you’d probably get a polite nod and very little else.

Like millions of others, I was obsessed. Those first three seasons were lightning in a bottle.