She is a loudmouth. Her voice carries more than you'd think it would. She hiccoughs, sneezes, belches without stifling it, like a man. She cackles like a witch - deep and throaty. Dirty.

She swears. On a Gordon Ramsay scale, she's small fry, but she cusses and curses more than you'd think, from what little you know of her.

She is tall. She undoubtedly has a physical presence. She looks confident - almost intimidating - but there is an inner awkwardness perceptible to the more observant. She is incredibly clumsy - always flailing her arms as she walks and bashing them on walls, radiators, door handles, grazing her knuckles as she goes.

She is incredibly opinionated. In the privacy of her own home, she rants and raves and argues the toss about education, politics, the environment, society, claiming to have an answer to all the wrongs. Outside of her home, she is rarely drawn into any serious debate, doubting her ability to express her view articulately, stifling her thoughts, silently simmering.

She is an appalling gossip. Incredibly observant and intuitive, she can spot the seed of gossip almost before it happens. She can bitch for England (or for any other country that may require her services).

She is an inverted snob at times. A snob at others.

She is "a million different people from one day to the next".

Do you think you know her?

She is me. The me (most of) you don't see. The me who writes, presses publish, gets up, walks away from the screen and becomes a real, three-dimensional, multi-faceted, multi-talented and multi-flawed human being.

Not just anxious. Much, much more.

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