A house fire that destroyed most of my treasured possessions taught me what really matters

'Yol, are you sitting down?" I wasn't, though I was in a bad way and probably should have been. It was a Sunday, I'd had two hours' sleep after a heavy night of tequila slammers, poppers and dancing, and I'd arrived late at the ICA to find a queue of mildly disgruntled art fans waiting for me to open the doors. I hadn't made it home and now, here was my flatmate calling me with some disturbing news. I propped myself on the end of the box-office counter and asked, "What's up?" "I burnt the flat down last night," replied Yvonne. Oddly, I wasn't too surprised, or even upset. In fact, the first thing that ran through my mind was my having complained the day before that my life was boring, with the words, "I just want something exciting to happen."