escheresque

This evening, it occurred to me how absurdly overdeveloped this sense of guilt and wrongdoing has become when I found myself, stirring soup in the pot, dwelling on guilt and feeling all kinds of guilty for feeling guilty. And then feeling guilty for feeling guilty for feeling – well, you get the idea. Like one of those mirror images which never ends.

I know, I know. I’m working on it, I promise. Please don’t laugh at me. I’ll get it under control… someday. Really. You have your irrationalities too, don’t you?

In other news, we had unexpectedly good weather throughout almost all of the August bank holiday weekend, and a whole array of good food (chorizo burgers at Borough market’s Brindisa, Monmouth Coffee, GBK, lassi, cake, duck rice at Goldmine!) plus NHM plus butterflies plus South Bank sunshine plus good company made it a lovely one. And that’s it, for summer – but what a memorable sendoff.