This morning Adam and I had a slow morning. I made coffee (for him) and tea (for me), we lay in bed chatting for a bit, and then we got up and dressed and took the train into the city. Oxford Circus of a Saturday is my own personal vision of hell, but early on it’s not so bad. But we went into Soho, and I don’t think I’ve ever been there on the weekend so early.
The people there are amazing. They’re all so fashionable, and I really admire the sort of person who can continuously put so much effort into making themselves up - like its a lifestyle. We saw a transvestite who, from behind, looked like she could have been a runway model. We saw hipsters of every shape and size, young and trendy mothers with their kids, and chatty couples with their big glasses and their little dogs. And we sat outside because it was so warm, drinking some of the best coffee in London, from a little place called Flat White (mine says 1/16th because that is pretty much exactly how much sugar I like in my coffee… no I didn’t ask them for specifically that much, I said “just a tiny bit of sugar”. I’m not high maintenance, I hope).
And that was the nicest part of the day, for me anyway. Shopping in Selfridges, strolling down Regent Street, cocktails on top of Waterstone’s Piccadilly, catching up with one of my best friends, Adi - it was all fun. But not as much fun as quietly people watching in the sun, with Adam and a good coffee.
Now I’m upstairs in our room while Adam is downstairs with our flatmates Tom, Clara, Rachael and all of Tom and Rachael’s (they’re brother and sister) family. They’re all really lovely and are constantly laughing, which I think is just the greatest, but I kind of feel like I want to just preserve that quiet feeling from this morning. But I LOVE being quiet on my own in a busy house full of happy people. That and I’m really sleepy.