Overheard in Soho

"I'm telling you he's definitely the best butcher in Venice ... "
"The NHS is a shambles and I'm living proof of it ..."
"The thing is, for every downside there's an upside..."
"I don't know what time I'll get to you, she's having a complete breakdown ..."

All human life, as they say.

Phone sorted. London was buzzy and sunny. I was looked after by a nice young man in the Apple Store who lived in Streatham and had a business on the side selling jerk chicken. Found a very presentable vegan bagel on Waterloo station on the way home.

TSM had a ghastly evening watching a musical production of Jane Austen; it was so awful that she and her mate Maud baled out in the interval and found themselves standing on the pavement sharing the trauma with other shell shocked members of the audience. Allegedly the female lead sang in Finnish whilst doing an impersonation of someone slipping into a coma. I wish I'd been there.

My working day was dull. Very long minute writing, at home, and a strange attack of binge eating to go with them. Punctuated by a brief visit to the vet where Scout was given an injection by a young Irish animal doctor called Molly McBride. Seriously.

Also had an odd moment in Pret where the world went strangely vivid and I felt like I was having an out of body experience. That may have been too much sugar in my vegan latte.

Like this man looking in the shop window, I'm struggling with what reality is ...