It's been a little while, and don't I know it (then again, if one of these happened consistently, I couldn't justify calling it a sometimes newsletter). This time last week I was headed to London, and at that time this week, I'll also head to London, I'm just vastly more prepared. For now, it's 7:30am, the birds with small lungs are doing their best to drown out the sounds of traffic, I already have black ink on most of my fingertips, and if I crane my neck to the right, the sky looks to be a perfectly cold, uniform shade of blue—almost as if, for now at least, it's in agreement with itself (which is more than most of us can say).