On the Monday in London it still feels like the weekend, as it does when you’re on holiday or just unemployed, or in my case both. I get dressed in too many layers for the weather but don’t realise until my back gets soaked as I walk down the road.
The train brings me down to Liverpool Street just like when I lived up in Clapton in 2011. This time the houses passing by the windows are a lot fancier and the streets are filled with hipster boutiques. Saying how when I lived here there were nothing, not even a pub makes me sound ancient so I won’t.
Outside the station I stand waiting for Flora and when she arrives after having fallen asleep on the underground I take her to the Counter Albion cafe. I get her to aww and sigh to the sight of this airy studio perfect for her freelance heart.
With a laptop each we order coffee and get exactly no work done.
In the midst of our not working my love Ornella enters.
She’s leaving to spend a month in the States next week and we talk about everything she will do. With her French attitude she refuses to believe that she’ll like a country as disgusting as the US, but her and I both know she’ll fall head over heels.
In the afternoon light we gossip about everything I’ve missed being away from this lovely city before Flora reminds me that I’m late for my afternoon date! I almost gasp for my breath as I’ve waited for this meeting for almost a year. But with whom I’ll tell you in the next post tomorrow morning because now I have to rush to school.