I really did mean to get something done today. I intended to get an early morning start on outlining my essay (due on Tuesday) in the library, and then meet Russ for lunch later. And I intended to make a definite start on the essay by today. That was, at least, the plan.
Instead, I’ve just got home from sitting in the Borders (Charing Cross Road) cafe till closing time, riveted to Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason, of all books. It all began when I went to the library only to find that it only starts opening on Saturdays next week, so I went to the computer room instead till Russ had finished working out or doing whatever it is that exercisey people do. We’d intended to give Soupworks a try, but its prices proved to be too exorbitant for us to be willing to buy more than a small soup each. It was nice soup, but not worth £2.60 for a tiny cup. After that we walked around Covent Garden a bit, with me on a frivolous but ultimately unsuccessful mission to find myself a pair of what Nick calls whore boots.
Just as we’d decided to go to Belgo’s for the fiver lunch, I remembered that I should see if Ken was at home so I could collect the stuff I’d begged my parents to send back here with him when he returned after spending Christmas back home. He was around, so we got a peek at his flat and his room, which was very him, and full of books I’d love to borrow, except for the fact that I have no credibility left after keeping his Fiona Apple album for the past two years.
So after a late lunch at Belgo’s, with Ken coming along for a drink, we finally hit Borders. And the rest, as they say…