Selfish Saturday: The healing power of victory

louis&flaviaOkay. I’ve been battling a tummy bug on one side and a cold on the other for the last three days or so. I’m in that awkward stage when snot trickles down my face without warning, and it can reach my mouth (ew) unless I have a tissue right in hand to wipe it off (my mum’s trick of tucking tissues into her sleeves doesn’t quite work because I’m in short sleeves in the house). I’m still not sure if the steak I had for dinner, the most solid thing I’ve had in this while, will stay down; after all, Wednesday’s curry took over 12 hours to decide it wanted out, after all (I know, TMI). I spent most of the day tidying up for the Christmas decorations to go up, not without aches and pains and bickering. And still, all I want to talk about is Strictly Come Dancing.

Louis Smith was my favourite from day one. I ogled him week in, week out, much like Darcey, although I’d started in the summer, over the Olympics. As the game heated up, I really, really wanted him to win, even more because I couldn’t stomach Denise Van Outen. Tonight he vindicated my trust and had me bouncing in joy like a little girl.

It’s been forever since someone I supported won something important, and the double shot of happiness, for the favourite and for the accurate prediction (I even predicted it would be Kimberley Walsh and Dani Harmer left standing after the semifinal!), is making me feel so much better, despite the illness and the tiring day.

I wish I could do that more often.

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