You’ve been stuck at your desk all day, meeting deadlines, sucking in filtered air and wistfully sneaking glances out of the window.
Finally it’s time to clock out and treat yourself to some much-deserved refreshment.
But the last thing your aching head wants is to join the crowds at one of the busy Canary Wharf bars.
At the terrace on the second floor of Roka in Canada Square I found a hidden oasis of calm that promised to soothe body, mind and soul.
The spacious platform at the Japanese restaurant was filled with candlelight and delicate greenery alongside staff so eager to please they were almost overwhelming.
I was enjoying the breeze ruffling my hair as I gazed down on the park, but clearly they thought I was too delicate a flower and a plastic blind was swiftly lowered and we were wrapped in cashmere wool.
Extra heat arrived in the shape of a bowl of spicy edamame (£4.60). I almost choked on a sesame seed when the sommelier silently deposited two glasses of Charles Heidsieck rose reserve onto the table, whispering how under-rated the Champagne house was.
I needed a drink to wash down the Korean spiced lamb, which was too chewy for my delicate jaw.
And, as the bubbles took effect, I slipped into princess mode – dishes gliding on and off the table before me as more drinks arrived and water glasses were filled with impressive speed.
The regal feeling intensified when the too-beautiful-to-eat brill sashimi (£7.60) was delivered on a miniature Japanese ice garden and I embraced my inner empress, delicately removing the sea-fresh slivers from the arrangement with chopsticks before dipping my head demurely and placing them in my mouth.
The we mounted an attack on the dessert platter (£56), which arrived looking like a tropical pirate ship heaving with the bounty of four small sweet dishes balanced on a mound of exotic fruit and scoops of ice cream. We had fun guessing the wonderfully pretentious flavours – caramel miso anyone?
When I could not eat another bite, I leaned back into my plumply cushioned seat, surrounded by tendrils of vine and draping leaves, watching the glimmering light of the setting sun and let out a sigh of satisfaction.
The perfect artistry of the food, served with incredible efficiency and charm in the cool evening air had not only sated my hunger but also, somehow, my restless mind and spirit.