"There's only sex and money"

As I sit sit on the Jubilee line heading back toward Waterloo station from Canary Wharf, suddenly I'm thinking of something to seriously consider: living in a major city for a few years...

You're probably considering the title of this post and thinking, "what the hell is she about to say?" - don't worry, this post has very little to do with sex or money.

I just left a fantastic date and am on to my last night "farewell" gathering on the Southbank.

My date was with a Chilean man I met through a mutual friend, so intriguing and so fun, and I'm sad we met as late as we did because I think we would have a lot of fun together. An old, old friend came to visit my last weekend in London and her friend (the Chilean) joined us at The Globe for "As You Like It". I'll just say that I definitely noticed him that night.

Two days later I received a text, from the Chilean. I hadn't given him my number. My friend did. Apparently there was some chatter on the inter-office online network and my number had been passed along. Anyway, the date was great. He is great. And he'll go so far in life. I only hope to stay in touch - after such a short time knowing each other.

Back to the title of this post...Suddenly, the high coming off that international date, coupled with my reflection in the tube window and the married man reading "there's only sex and money" next to me (maybe that has no relevance, but it moved me nonetheless) had me fantasizing about life in a major city with an underground network.

Just something to consider...