Sunday, November 2, 2014

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing. – TS Eliot

Last night I fell asleep at 8:30 after a nightcap of painkillers and woke at seven this morning with the same pounding of the temples, ba dum ba dum ba dum. What cruel injustice was this? It wasn't until another hour passed that I remembered the prescription my doctor gave me for migraines, the forgetting of which would've caused self-flagellation were my head not already doing the honors. Within the hour of taking, what sweet release is this? I could barely feel my toes, let alone my head. Lovely Sunday, how are you doing. We will be friends today.

It was in the nick of time, too: we had a coveted brunch reservation at Foxlow, Hawksmoor's little sister in Farringdon, and they do NOT mess around:

The All Day Breakfast Burger. I KNOW.

Now we're back home and the day is just getting better - I have a new book to proofread and it is a good one: funny and adventurous, and what more could one ask for? I am enjoying it immensely. So this is what I'll be doing the rest of the day, reading and marking and reading some more, curled up on the couch under my cuddliest of blankets, wearing my squidgiest of socks. The rain can pour as much as it likes outside the windows: there is quiet all around.

Big hugs and lots of love,

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