Let’s pretend I’ve been training for my pilot’s licence. I’d like to take off in a two-seater sea plane from the loch in Mull and land it expertly in the little boating lake at Heaton Park. Which interestingly has a pair of my spectacles at the bottom of it from my last day at school in 1990.

I would probably want to cook a decent turkey. Whether it was my mother or my sister, growing up in a matriarchal family in America, they always cooked the best turkeys and kinda ruled my life that way, so I would like one crack at it. I’d put a turkey in the oven, and that would give me a good five hours to do some other stuff.

I’d sit and listen to albums end to end. I’d listen ‘S. F. Sorrow’ by The Pretty Things, then ‘Endtroducing’ by DJ Shadow. Just before I die, the last thing I’d listen to would be ‘Come On Eileen’ by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. Imagine dancing to that and dying right at the end of it. My missus would film it and it would be on YouTube. I’d still be warm and people will be watching it.

That’s the point. I don’t have to achieve today. For an over-achiever that would be quite an unusual day. But there would be mental photographs taken of dear friends and family so that I could create a virtual reality of them wherever I was going.