A vision in Villiers Street

Up late again feeling a bit groggy. A night of significant seeming dreams. In one I was taking a small toddler, a thought daughter, to the house in Guernsey where I lived as a child. I took her into it, knowing the house to be haunted, and was expecting at any moment something frightening to happen, but nothing did. When I woke up I had a strong sense of a new start. It felt good.

Off to work, the train tunnelling through thick fog. Work still busy but not too bad... Snuck off at lunchtime and met the French Bloke for a quick and cheery beer which was excellent. I can't remember the last time we went for a beer.

After work I went into Soho to meet the usual bunch of ex-colleagues in the Crown and Two Chairman pub, and then off to eat at the Delhi Brasserie. Usual mixture of industry gossip (this is the closest thing I get to networking) and stories -- Marcella talking about her recent trip to Morocco for example. There were six of us tonight: young James, Arno, Phil and Ash, and Marcella... and there were affectionate goodbyes and Merry Christmases. After crossing Soho I walked down Villiers Street to Embankment tube, and was filled with a sudden burst of happiness. As if something squatting on my soul had sprung off into the darkness and I was left with a fleeting certainty that everything -- somehow -- was going to be okay.

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