My last supper

With all my stuff packed up, my flat seemed much more spacious. I think I already mentioned that the removal company forgot to pack the content of one of my drawers. And I then noticed that I had forgotten to tell them to pack the content of two of my kitchen drawers. So, I ended up packing my two pots into my suitcases (and binning a lot of the other stuff). Now, in the past, this would have not only really annoyed me, I would have also stressed, got angry etc. While nowadays  - and I am hoping this is a permanent improvement – I just shrug my shoulders and deal with it. Which is of course much better for my blood pressure.

I decided it would be way too emotional to go into town for a last night out, so decided to meet G at Canary Wharf for dinner and drinks. And I made my last supper in London a very British one: steak and Guinness pie with my first ever bubble & squeak, Pimms and Great British Mess (Eaton Mess with pieces of scones). It was delightful. And I went to bed unusually calm. Somehow thinking about the moment of farewell before as well as now after the fact, makes me more emotional than at the time.