Please leave by 9pm

sleep is my friend

Last December, I invited some writer pals round for dinner. I made a little invitation, with wine glass doodles and swirly text that said: “XMAS GET TOGETHER! WEDS 13TH DECEMBER! 6.30-9.30pm.” I was planning a Martha Stewart-style “girl dinner” grazing platter of Camembert, crackers, grapes, hummus, olives and other picky things, aka “drinks and nibbles.” Low key.

“You put an end time?” Paul said, mouth agape, when I showed him the invite.
“Yes! Why?”
“It might read as a little…. passive aggressive.”

I thought about removing it, but then realised I’d already sent it out.