Wednesday, April 15


On Friday morning I flew to London to escape from myself. A visit to a Chinese acupuncturist had helped me to find out I wasn’t pregnant, which was probably the biggest relief of the year. According to the Chinese doctor my blood wasn’t flowing properly. Too much casual sex had blocked my chi. I boarded the airplane with a suitcase full of presents and a sense of happiness I had not felt before. The relief of not having to raise children, of being able to move freely and go anywhere in the world. I was allowed to be selfish, to spend all my money on make-up and things I didn’t need. My brother and his son came to pick me up from the airport. Later that day we hit the shops at Oxford Street. I bought three different outfits and a lot of yellow underwear. London felt like a strange city; I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to survive.