I'm at my mate's lovely flat in Chelsea, full of fine Italian food and wine. Hurrah. I have walked bloody miles today, from Waterloo to Victoria, then from Victoria to Whitehall, then all the way back down past Sloan Square and all along the King's Road. My feet are killing me.
We're trying to persuade another former colleague to jump in a cab and join us for a nightcap.
He's just rung and told us to stop pressuring him. Heh.
And we've arranged a breakfast meeting for tomorrow instead. Marvellous.