If the rain held off, I’d walk down to Lough Ine, stopping at the shrine to say a few words to Herself and rile a few fairies. I’d take a sloop out, do a few perimeters and have a chat with Labhrai Loinsigh. I’d maybe walk up furry mountain and take in the view.

I can see myself making this grand plan of finding everyone and telling them all how much I love them. However, instead I find myself in bed at 3pm and I’ve slept for half the day. I would probably make grand plans and then just oversleep. So I think it could go two ways. I could try and be generous and get together with the people that I’m close to and tell them all how much they mean to me. But at the same time that’s also really egocentric as I’m about to die and therefore the more I make them love me, the more pain they’ll be in. So I think I’ll skip that just because I’m selfless. So I’d go to my enemies and tell them how much I hate them all. I could be as rude to them as I want as I know that I’m going to have the last word anyway. But my enemy list isn’t that long and I wouldn’t be that cruel, just the odd harsh word and kick in the ass.

Book all the headliners that I’ve never managed to book for Bestival, for future Bestivals that my children will run after I die. Kate Bush, Prince, Dolly Parton, David Bowie – maybe throw Iron Maiden in there for a bit of a laugh. I’d get on the mobile and stroll around outside and do some deals. Maybe get some of these hard-arse agents to give me a bit of a discount as I’m dying.

Primping mostly. It’s Sophia Loren! So I would clean up a bit and the first thing I would check are my toenails. I would have a full shave and make sure I had moisturised everywhere. Of course I’d make sure I smell nice too, but not overly perfumed. I think after cleaning and steaming and bathing and primping, I would like to do a bit of exercise – or maybe the steam bath would be enough – to bring out my natural body odour, that fresh, manly scent.