Excellent evening last night, at one of Robert’s Internet Peeps events. The theme was lessons learned, with an open-mic type of thing. Lots of sound advice and a stellar performance by Michael ‘Bebo’ Birch. I even made a contribution myself, as (very slightly) paraphrased on the Jemima’s blog over at Media Guardian

What I actually said is, when choosing a business partner, ask yourself one question [above all else]… are they someone you could go for a drink or - better yet - get drunk with? If not, probably don’t work with them. And if they say “oh, actually I don’t drink”, definitely don’t work with them.

It’s not a hard and fast rule, of course but when I look around Fridaycities HQ, I reckon I’m on pretty safe ground.

So, yes, I’m starving. Been in the office since the crack of dawn this morning (ish), finishing off our 10 London Commandments thing, dealing with banks, managing site things, fixing broken things and generally - you know - working. We’ve signed up a load of new people today and, despite one tiny glitch, things are holding up remarkably well. S’all good.

But one thing I haven’t done much of today is eating. Hence being starving. In a previous life, I’d have ordered takeaway at my desk but one of the things I like the most about my new flat is that it has a fucking awesome kitchen. If a kitchen is capable of filling one with awe.

When I moved in, I decided it was as good an excuse as any to learn how to actually cook stuff. I can’t tell you the sense of satisfaction I felt when I actually made an omelette. From scratch. With - like - stuff in it. Mushrooms and things.

But that was just the start. My plan this evening is for some kind of chicken and sauce type affair. Perhaps with wine and garlic in it. (You’ll note, by the way, that in my case, the egg came first.)

All of which means that, given the fact that I have to go home via Sainsbury’s, by the time I actually eat tonight I’ll have been dead for an hour and a half.

Ah well.

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