Today was supposed to be a day spent perusing the summer sales taking place along Knightsbridge and Sloane Street. Instead, thanks to the volatility that is the nature of work, my shopping companion ended up having to work this weekend.

I was disappointed - I'm the kind of person who needs someone to tell me whether something I'm wearing really does look good - but I did understand because I've been in the same industry for far longer than my friend has. And while I've been thinking about whether I should go out with someone in the same line as I am simply because that guy is far more likely to understand my working hours and unpredictable schedule more than people outside of it, I realised yesterday that after being in this line for so long, I can't take much more rescheduling of my life. I guess I knew what I was doing the first time round when I decided I didn't really want to date people from my line when I first started work, but now that I'm in a whole different country, I wonder how on earth I'll get to meet those people not from my industry.

Please excuse the ramblings. After many late nights at work and an extremely heavy night of drinking and light clubbing yesterday, my processing powers are not at their usual sharp level.