If you’ve ever forced yourself to read all of the way to the end of Elizabeth ‘Shoot me I’m so depresssed’ Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation, you’ll know how tedious and irritating it is to find out every miserable detail of someone’s life as a depressed person. The excrutiating detail of every manic episode of self-obsessed gibbering. The cycles of being unbearable to her friend and relative.
So today, avid readers, you are treated to a moment of joy in the life of the returned sabbaticaller. And not just the fact that I’m down to sausage and bacon every second work-day, or that the sandwich man came in earlier than usual today at work.
No, today I won a competition. Partly because I had one ear tuned into XFM, and I entered one of my photos into a Kevin Greening competition. It turned out that he liked it, although not as much as the photo of a naked couple wearing Maltesers, and so I got tickets to go and see some fancy film premiere. Hurrah. Tomorrow in Soho Square. Hurrah. With free refreshments. Hurrah. And the naked people from the Malteser photo, Hurrah.
At 6pm when I’m going to be in a meeting with a client 40 minutes away in Hammersmith. Bugger.