day 13 – one glass too many

Homeward bound, head heavy from that last glass of wine and the heat of a tube station that’s been exhaling fumes all day, like a seasoned smoker.

In 20 minutes, the only thing I’m going to want to do is rest my tipsy head on my fluffy pillow and knock on dream land’s door but I made a promise 13 days ago, so I feel I should give you something substantial. Alas, gravitas is not on the menu at this late hour.

I doubt you want to hear about the Tagliatelle I had for dinner (which was one tasty Tagliatelle), or the table talk of foreskin and the quality it takes as a gentleman grows into his wise years (having an A&E doctor for a friend always makes for highly salient conversations). So instead, I’ll tell you this – before I tucked into the wine, I listened to a lovely author talk about “Writing the book in you” in the Library Bar of Shoreditch House. And this lovely man had many lovely things to say about writing and I took many notes but what really stuck was this simple quote by Neil Gaiman:

“Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving”

Yes! Adamant yes! And before the wine, I could have told you why this stuck and I’m certain that I’ll reflect on it tomorrow but the tube is nearing Lancaster Gate… correction, the train has gone two stops past Lancaster Gate and we must now backtrack home and if that isn’t a sign to sign off, then I’m sure I don’t know what is.

So good night, dear friends, and sweet dreams.