The itchy and scratchy show

Another swim today, which I'm loving. My skin is incredibly dry and itchy at the moment though, which means I can't go too often. It also necessitates the faintly homoerotic business of standing about rubbing moisturisers and unguents into myself in the often quite crowded changing room.

Curiously Blogging seems to be flavour of the month at the moment, and I have been asked to write another one for work soon.

In the evening met Paul, who I'd not seen for about six months. He is now creative director of his own starter agency, and was wearing his pinstripe suit and two tone shoes and generally looking gangsterish. He also had a mysterious Romanian woman called Diana in tow, who was having a difficult life crisis. She was interested that I wrote poetry, as she did too, and she had also studied philosophy. Paul had offered her a roof over her head while she gets things sorted out - typical of him as he is always helping people. They came to meet me in the agency, and I went out for yet another drink.

I need a massive detox and fast: it seems my Christmas festivities have all come a month late.

Fortunately it was not a long evening, and I returned home and bought fish and chips from Sing Li. And, after this guilty pleasure, I talked enjoyably on IM with Sarah for a bit before clambering gratefully into bed.

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