So! That was the first decade of the end of the world. It started with murder, ended with marathon training. I guess that's not too bad, considering all the hawks and the owls were convinced there was going to be the end of the world because of a computing error that everyone knew wouldn't do anything.
Well, apart from ten minutes after midnight 2000 when the phone networks were jammed and I hoped it meant that we'd be having some kind of neo-luddite revolution and we'd all have to live off nettle tea and roadkill forever. The many rubbish HAPPY NEW MILLENNISULMUMULIUM! messages ended that dream all too soon.
From 00 to 10, I went from leaving Leeds after being homeless and then being key witness to a murder, then had a crazy decade full of very silly things in London. Being on TV, meeting the queen, losing a year to migraine, then another one to partying, travelled all over the world, decided London was the best place in the world and stayed put. I drew a badger who made me more friends than he had and there was enough wrong with Doctor Who to let me rage for another decade.
I guess it's not been too bad, eh?