This evening I went to Mustard, a restaurant in Little India, for a belated birthday dinner with a friend of mine. I think this may have been the first Indian food I’ve had all year, which is a bit of a shock. I also had a huge bottle of Kingfisher beer, so sadly I don’t remember too much about it, apart from the conversation we had about my body falling apart this year, the correct etiquette for ending a relationship via WhatsApp, and the drawbacks of having to work for a living.
Obviously there was paneer as well, and dal, and I probably went overboard on vegetable samosas.
Afterwards, I went home, ready to go to bed, but then friends invited themselves round for drinks so I was up until 1am,with them helping me to choose which of my many and ridiculous clothes I should wear to the Christmas party next week. (We seem to have settled on techno-Freddy Mercury.)
And so to bed.