You've Been Drifting For A Long Long Time . . .

I got massively sick of sitting in the hot, stagnant air trying to write, so I decided to head down to Santa Monica for lunch at my favorite diner. Lo and behold, the diner was closed--after 28 years, the owners decided to retire. Crap. The sign that informed me that the diner was closed also stated that the menu would be transferred over to the British pub next door.

I headed over to the pub and no, the menu wasn't transferred over. But there was a nice breeze, the first I've felt for the last week. You could almost believe that there was no heat wave. Anyway, bottom line, I decided to stay for lunch. I ordered the fish and chips plus a pint of Guinness. Someone plonked in a couple of quarters in the jukebox, and "Driftwood" by Travis came on.

Next thing I know, it's a Friday in August 1999. I'm having lunch outside with my BigLaw buddies--fellow associates and the litigation paralegals--at the British Banker's Club in Menlo Park. This is one of the few times I was actually relaxed while at BigLaw. For a couple of hours, I wasn't thinking about coming in during the weekend to finish up any reply briefs or worried about discovery issues.

OK, so I'm not exactly Proust, but I sorta get what he was trying to do.