And yesterday there was much beer. Started off at the Royal Oak with Terry, who I haven't seen in ages, so was good to catch up. And there was of course beer, at least for me (the Armada there is excellent, though at 4.8% slightly dangerous). And there were chips, which was good (chips there also excellent, & you get lots of 'em for your £1.50. Indeed, it is a fine pub in general). Then he had to head home, so I took myself off to the George, where there were many folk, including
marnameow,
wintrmute,
uon,
kitty_goth,
mr_tom,
ali_anarres,
boyofbadgers,
mouseboks & MANY OTHERS. And lo! there was more beer, and much conversation & general FUN. Hurrah.
Less fun this morning. Headache & strange inability to focus on moving objects, such as for example scrolling screens. Ow. Yet, bizarrely, I still feel all bouncy & cheerful, which is clearly wrong & peculiar. I have a hangover. I should hate the world & be convinced that the world hates me & wish to hide under the desk & so forth. Ah well, at least it's a good way to be being wrong & peculiar, so I shan't complain.
Instead I shall go to the PUB again tonight. Um. Or, as the case may be, possibly not. I am supposed to be going to the pub, but feel that the wiser course of action would be to phone Martin & rearrange the pub-meeting in question to be instead a sitting-on-sofa-with-videos type affair.
I have a strong desire to go to sleep. I believe they (They) frown on this sort of behaviour at work. Apparently one is, instead, expected to work. Madness.
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Less fun this morning. Headache & strange inability to focus on moving objects, such as for example scrolling screens. Ow. Yet, bizarrely, I still feel all bouncy & cheerful, which is clearly wrong & peculiar. I have a hangover. I should hate the world & be convinced that the world hates me & wish to hide under the desk & so forth. Ah well, at least it's a good way to be being wrong & peculiar, so I shan't complain.
Instead I shall go to the PUB again tonight. Um. Or, as the case may be, possibly not. I am supposed to be going to the pub, but feel that the wiser course of action would be to phone Martin & rearrange the pub-meeting in question to be instead a sitting-on-sofa-with-videos type affair.
I have a strong desire to go to sleep. I believe they (They) frown on this sort of behaviour at work. Apparently one is, instead, expected to work. Madness.