Agnes b, Hong Kong

I struggled to do anything today: whether it was getting out of bed, or taking the train to Quarry Bay to visit Mr Taco Truck, or remembering not to have a pint of beer in the afternoon. I don't believe I over exerted myself yesterday, unless the effort of listening to a cd of Taiwanese banjo-based emo-pop-indie-folk in HMV had really knocked the stuffing out of me.

However, in between these bouts of lassitude I did some more work on my random verbiage generator, and had a nap, and went to the Agnes b restaurant in Causeway Bay.
On reflection, sitting down and having somebody bring you food is not the most difficult of things to do; I did overcome the base desire to break my vegetarian vows though, and whilst all around me were eating steak or lobster, I had ... an omelette.

Still, if you go to a high-class French restaurant (even one hidden on a busy street in Hong Kong, sheltered behind over-zealous air conditioning and plate glass) then you can't really complain that the vegetarian option isn't the most adventurous thing on the menu. Plus it was a good omelette - not as good as one in Les Lindarets in the Alps near Morzine, but that's at least twelve hours' flight away. Dessert, in any case, a fine array of poached pears, souffle and creme brulee, more than made up for it.

Staggered home, watched episode 2 of the first season of Extras, cringed. I wonder how I ever forgot how painful it was.