Sick, dying

Oh my god I am so ill. I was planning today to talk about tempura batters and banana fritters but all I can do is sit at my desk with my forehead gently resting on the table top going "Mmlerrruugh." I can touch type (I knew it would come in handy one day) though so my forehead being on the desk doesn't interfere with my writing.

Giles suggested going for a walk! A WALK?!?!?! I'm dying. I would utter a profanity but I'm too exhausted.

Anyway, I can, in lieu of anything more interesting to say, tell you that I had a great dinner last night at Aqua on Regent Street. I was really surprised, as it's one of those restaurants that plays loud music and there's a lot of red lights and black lacquer and orchids. Do you know what I mean? It was a Japanese joint and usually raw fish served anywhere that has red lighting and loud music and cocktails will probably give you trichonosis.

But the food was really excellent and it was packed out and I recommend that you get your reservations in now before maybe one or two people give it an okay review and you can't get in the door for love nor money. Although don't go if the idea of red lights and lacquer makes you queasy.

The same goes for a French place called Terroirs in Covent Garden - they do a cassoulet there that will make you fall to your knees and thank god for the haricot bean: book now or forever have your nose pressed against the glass.

*Cough cough*. Goodbye then. Farewell. I am going to put on Mozart's Requiem and walk slowly to the bedroom.

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