_. Didn't hear the alarm clock and woke up at 8. Unbelievably, I was at my desk at the YP at 8:50 looking well turned out, and efficient. However, by lunchtime I was exhausted. I put a couple of chairs together to make a makeshift hammock and sprawled out behind the filing cabinets [Africa: Zambia politics 17197], and slept for an hour emerging at 2:30 feeling bog-eyed and with a pulsating brain. Did no work and sat with my head in my hands.
Ally phoned to say she was leaving the AHA at 2:30 because of the snow. The girls quit the office at 4 and Ally came to the office at 4:30. I gave her some photo files to look at until 5:30 and then we went out into a blizzard to join Lynne Bateson at her leaving party in the Harrogate suite at the Wellesley. Joined by Peter Lazenby, Gavin Summers, Roy Holland, Nichola Gould, Stephanie Ferguson & Dave, &c. Put away a good deal of booze [again] but felt remarkably well considering I was so dead this afternoon. Ally got on like a house on fire with Pete and Roy. Somebody [the name escapes me] analysed by horoscope. Evidently, Pisces was in ascendant at the moment of my birth which dilutes some of the nastiness of Aries. What clap trap. On to an Indian restaurant on Eastgate with a party including a dreadful Jewish solicitor and his tarty wife. Ally was furious about her. The solicitor's wife took exception to Stephanie, for some reason, call it jealousy, and a slanging match, or battle of wits, ensued in which the indomitable Stephanie came out on top as one would expect. The bill in the restaurant was far too steep, and left me almost destitute. Ally gave a couple a lift to Roundhay and on we went to Club St, feeling tired, full and content.
-=-
No comments:
Post a Comment