Today I have walked along a still-sleeping Brick Lane on a bagel mission, and had a leisurely breakfast in a room with a skylight, and jazz, and lovely company. I have ridden on the tube half-blind because I didn’t have my spectacles (this time with a cast-iron excuse for not making eye contact with the guy asking for change: it’s not that I was deliberately avoiding his gaze, I just couldn’t see his eyes to begin with), although once the train is moving the world outside isn’t any more of a blurred rush without specs than it is with them. I have walked home down Gower Street in a quiet riot of sun and blue and leaves, and scrunched through fallen yellow in the UCL compound. I have been rather happy.