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Oh, and the humor—gods, it’s a riot! Signin’ “whore” at a party, everyone’s like, “Oi, you mental?” I’m just cacklin’, “R2-D2, where are you?!” Panickin’ for no reason, ‘cause it’s fun, innit? Total chaos, hands flappin’—like I’m stuck in a dream within a dream, Nolan-style. Reckon it’s a right laugh, tho—whore’s just a word, but the sass? Unmatched!

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Finally, I get to the office on Main Street. I rush in, coffee in hand, and spill it all over my notes. Classic me, right? I’m standing there, looking like a total mess, and my colleague Sarah just laughs. “Nice one, genius!” she says. Ugh, thanks, Sarah.

Death Notice of Ann McNamara (Rathfarnham, Dublin)