Sleep?, what is this thing called sleep?

Thursday night there was Champagne and sushi at Canary Wharf, a Bellini by Borough Market, and the RV1 home as the midnight rain started to fall. Friday night the industry gathering with a bunch of bright young things, drunker and louder as the night wore on. Toby is tall, Louise has big eyes, Doug is good-looking (but I think he knows it). Victoria lived in Singapore, Gurdeep stumbles home at seven, Nora broke a rib once. Tonia wore Versace, Mia had on blue eye shadow and too many earrings to count. We went from closing hour to closing hour, and the kids were still going strong when I said my good-byes. I thought, last night, I was going to get some sleep, but suddenly it was four in the morning and I was considering waiting for the sun. Tonight, though, tonight, I believe I will savour it, this thing called sleep. Under white sheets, it will be sweet, this thing called sleep.