It’s days like these I remember why I moved to this crazy city, and why I stayed.
Monday was mental all day – a photoshoot and a bucketfull of drama, and I spent the evening drinking too much wine at the National (against the backdrop of some culture, obvs). Tuesday was equally crazy – made slightly more so by the lingering red wine-over from the night before. I spent my evening, first at a shopping event, then at the theatre, then drinking champagne at the Langham for a particularly fabulous press night party, dodging out of photos and tripping over minor celebrities.
Today, I went to work, had a meeting in the sunshine, survived an epic conference call, attended a PR launch of a new fancy luxury skincare brand, RAN to Soho Theatre in heels to watch ’7 Day Drunk’, which was a piece of performance art so very arty that I thought for a moment I’d stumbled into the ensemble of Rent. Then, not content to stagger home at 9.30pm, I instead tagged along to a post-theatre dinner in Balans with a couple of PR folks, where we drank champagne and talked about boys and shoes. Half way through dinner, I co-ordinated Shoreditch House Saturday plans and prayed for a sunny weekend.
Oh yes, London. You may not have given me a Prince Charming (yet), but damnit you don’t half treat me well.