Friday was a really hectic day, spent between the office (which included two meetings), supermarket, pharmacy, home for lunch and after work; on the telephone with Linda, with mum and even with my dad to get advices and reassurance on how to cure and take care of the agonising patient: Lofty got flu with high temperature. Sigh!
Saturday was much more static. With the exception of a trip to the local Queen's Park to buy some organic food (I got a soup that he didn't like and some pasta salad for me), hire a film and pop to a fashion shop, I spent most of the time at home, cleaning and washing. The rest of the evening was quite pleasant, watching Ae Fond Kiss, an involving story of real and pure love feelings and having a long and deep sleep. Oh, and Lofty got a bit better.
Today everything seemed to start in the right way: he brought me coffee in bed and proposed to go out together and get some breakfast, but soon after he pronounced this good resolution, he felt sick again and ended up in bed with regular trips to the bathroom. After spending half an hour writing a post about the cool stuff I have being doing in London and what is ahead, I lost everything. I was not too angry though, maybe because it was not an excellent post after all. At around 1pm, I got into town, bought two pair of socks (one of which is wrong), looked for male shoes, got a cappuccino and croissant in a cafe' while reading my book, popped to the Photographers' Gallery but did not get the meaning of the exhibition (frankly, I did not spend enough time to grasp it), then popped into the National Portrait Gallery for a browse around and finally met up with Valentina and Adrian. Together, we went into two different Asian supermarkets in China Town in search of chicken noodles soup, Lofty's eating wish since Richard had mentioned that it is very good for the tummy. I managed to buy all sorts of goodies, including soya beans (which I LOVE), jasmine tea, miso soup, Hello Kitty milk biscuits and, of course, chicken soup with noodles. Today was for us the start of the London Film Festival with the film The Missing Star, which we appreciated for its understated style and for the human story of a man with a mission: repairing a faulty machine which his company sold to Chinese brokers. Sergio Castellitto enjoyes all my esteem as he played admirably his role of an Italian working class man with honest feelings and communicated his shock at clash with the Chinese sub-culture of work with penetrating looks and deep remarks.
... So, all in all it was a good weekend and it seems like that my Sunday was driven by the same theme. 
(Good Night!)
(Good Night!)
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