I have this overwhelming feeling of guilt hanging over me like a wet blanket. I've been in London for five days, and I have done nothing but mostly stay in my friend Susie's flat, curled up in her couch, reading a trashy science fiction novel (aside from some business-related appointments, of course). Since I am here, shouldn't I be out traipsing around this wonderful city? I never can bring myself to explore London whenever I am here, for some reason. Perhaps it is the sheer size of the city - it's overwhelming. Perhaps it is because this is my first chance to enjoy a home that, while it is not mine, is my own space for a few days and is NOT a hotel room. Either way, I haven't even taken a picture since I've been here. Ridiculous.
Regardless of my sense of "should", which brings about this light wash of guilty emotion, I've really enjoyed my trip here. Simple pleasures, I guess. I finished my trashy sci-fi novel, and I have discovered that the third movement of Beethoven's String Quartet in a minor, Op.132 is one of my new favorite pieces of music.
I can't wait to head home tomorrow to sleep in my own bed and cook in my own kitchen for a week before I head off to Los Angeles.