A bit exhausted, but happy. And that's the point, ain't it?
8 parts arrogance speaking, tonight (or rather, last night) was phenomenal, gastronomically. Dinner service was clean, orderly, and to the schedule. Military precision, without the goose-stepping. Cooked the fish and beef as perfectly as I could ever manage. And wines? The old rieslings were a revelation.
Tired now. It's late. Or early, however you look at it. Sleep, then more in detail, when I'm a bit more lucid. I was shooting rum all night, but holding it well. It's the knife wounds to the left hand that are bugging me. Ahh, a mere flesh wound. Now I'm starting to sound drunk.