Sorry if it has been a while since my last update. Since my return I've been all over the place. The party season has started up again and I have eased myself back into it almost as if I had never left. I do like the party season, there is something so right about living off a diet of cocktails and finger-food for a month or so.
This week has included a couple of art shows, an opening night of a food place in South Kensington and a very pleasant drinking session to say good bye to a work friend, or to be more accurate a friend.
As with all these things everyone drank far too much and then said heartfelt and boozy things to each other. It was deeply moving, but sadly the person who is leaving got so drunk she doesn't remember any of the special moments.
I popped out of the party for five minutes to get something from the office and when I tried the door it wouldn't open, now I'm not terribly good with keys at the best of times but the door was definitely stuck. So I pushed it hard and it opened, with a work mate sprawled on the floor behind it. And behind her, an 'unknown male' scamped off to hide in the loos.
I caught a co-worker having an affair (it was definitely not her boyfriend, he is much shorter), and it was almost the last co-worker I would suspect of having anything like that. We are going to have a coffee to talk about it. Not that I'm going to say much but I feel coffee is definitely the order of the day, with some sort of stilled Merchant Ivory style conversation.
After that I returned to the party, had more sad conversations with the leaving person before stumbling home in quite a state, the rest of the weekend was spent relaxing and catching up on sleep. I had forgotten that the party season means your weekends are spent in a torpor as you ready yourself for the next round of mid-week parties.
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