The usual journey into work. Train and tube. 50 or so minutes on a good day (longer than you might expect from zone 3, but that’s London for you).
On the tube, the man on my left is transfixed by solitaire which he plays on his Blackberry. The woman on my right is lost in Stylist, the new (free) lifestyle magazine for women that’s distributed around London. The young suited guy – standing and somewhat leaning over me – is reading Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.
By the time I’m moving on to the Piccadilly line it’s the usual crowd. Smartly dressed air stewards and stewardesses are disembarking (this is the tube line that links Heathrow with central London). As ever, lots and lots of foreigners on this particular tube line, laden down with luggage.
The queue at Starbucks too long so I head straight into the office. I come out later for coffee as I’m not so fond of filter coffee.
Work busy. An offsite (internal) meeting at Soho House. Also, the guy who got me the job (for which there were no other candidates, the prophecy of What Colour is Your Parachute finally having come true…) is over from Asia. We catch up and I fill him in on London office tittle-tattle.
I work ’til 7.15pm then leave to meet friends for dinner at my favourite Chinese off Leicester Square. You really need to know where you’re going in this part of town as it’s so touristy. Thankfully I do as I’ve been going to the same place for years. Food lovely – as ever. Totally full. Catching up with close friends. Sheridan arriving late (the downside of working OHMSS).
Short bus journey followed by short train journey and then home. After white wine earlier, it’s time to make the natural progression on to my old favourite – the French drink Ricard Pastis.