a sense of enormous well-being

I've just lost three more hours of tuition - one of my sociology students went to the Bahamas and has apparently decided not to come home. (I can see her point.) And my month-off-the-booze lasted all of three days, from Sunday until Wednesday when there was a chair-flinging brawl in the Chinese restaurant we were in, and I simply had to go and have a nice cold pint of cider to settle my nerves. (Purely medicinal, of course.)

I should probably be angsting wildly about my fast-disappearing job, the nastiness of London, being poor, having no willpower, not owning a sofa, etc etc. But instead I've been in a ridiculously good mood for days now. I'm thinking that really my life is great - filled with buzz and busyness and fascinating people and a constant power-hose flow of entertainment and information for me to lap up with all my senses. I may not be able to take the pace for ever, but right now it seems to me that one day in my house in the country as I sit with book in hand and cat on lap, listening to the birds singing, I'll be looking back on the London years with affection, not with a shudder.

I don't know why I feel this happy. There's no rational reason. It's all purely subjective, so I might as well just surf along on it while it lasts.