la belle vie

as soon as i put the phone down i regretted my decision not to go to paris. to me it seemed too easy - the clutch of euros on my pillow, the train tickets on the kitchen table, the hotel reservations...
of course though, i'd rather stay in London for the weekend with a pink polka-dot sack of dirty washing and a VIP pass to schooldisco in Hammersmith.
I slid the 'let's go' Paris guide under a still-wrapped TLS on the floor and decided to get on with my life.

qualifications

it slowly dawned on me that all that might qualify me for the job was a first class degree in english literature from Oxford University, possibly followed by a masters... and parents who would fund my year of labour in their soho offices.