And it was. A good evening, that is. I've had a great time out with the marvellous Deborah, a friend from work. We were partaking of comparative hospitality research - except our comparisons were messed up by the eating establishment we were heading for being fully booked, which forced us back to where we started from. Great hardship as we drank more glasses of pink bubbles, cocktails and ate lovely food.
It was a fabulous evening, at the end of a beautiful early summer's day - don't blink or you'll miss our Scottish summer - so why do I feel sad now? I quite often find that at the end of a great evening out with friends, I will feel a bit down. I think it's the contrast between good times out with friends and coming home to an empty (apart from Cat) flat.
Again, I don't want you to feel sorry for me. The sadness passes. But it is a reality. I would love to be coming home to someone special. Or at least knowing that there's someone special waiting for me to get home and thinking about me even if they're not physically there. Maybe some time. But for now, it's me and Cat, and my friends. And for that I'm truly grateful.
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