incredibly guilty about it, but I just can’t stop. The problem is that I will agree to anything if you ask me far enough in advance. I find it impossible to decline an invite (and, to be fair to myself, is there ever a polite way to say you don’t want to meet up?).
I’d love to be able to say I only do this to distant acquaintances, never the people I genuinely love, but that isn’t the case. Take the other night. One of my oldest friends, Scarlett, was having a birthday party in Denmark Hill. Now I live in Acton and, I’m telling you, it’s not easy to make that journey. There’s a whole lot of train and Tube changing and even when you get there it’s a long walk. But I was really looking forward to going because she’s a great friend and it sounded fun. And I definitely didn’t want to not go, because it’s really bad not to go to your friends’ birthday parties and I personally get very antsy about people not turning up to mine. So what did I do? I cancelled at the last minute, of course, with some