MGM-day at the Old Contemptibles. Quite a good turn out, all things considered. If memory serves: me, yoshi, shabe and his mate, whose name I've forgotten, my_own_mandate, miss_scooter, joetimewaster, metalmikey666 + random acquaintance, Claire, rubytitania and Shooty, making a first time appearance. The night involved bitching about work (more on that later) to Ben, discussing absent 'friends', playing pool very badly whilst drunk, drinking absolutely awful rosé that gradually tasted vaguely like wine after we'd finished the first bottle (...) and getting a lift back because we were rather too drunk to try and walk home safely...
There was one random little incident that sparked a bit of inspiration for... something. I don't know what, but it's good that I'm getting little sentences popping into my head again. :) The difficult part is now figuring out what to do with them.
Also on Friday I thought my walkman was fucked (my tape walkman, that is), which I was very annoyed about because it's a bloody good walkman and was quite expsensive... and also because I'd finally gotten around to listening to the mixtape Paul made for me, got through the first two songs and then it became completely unlistenable due to warbliness. We tried the tape later at his house and it was fine, so I presumed my walkman had died for no apparent reason... though the tape plays fine at home as well, and the walkman is playing all my other tapes just fine. So I blame his stereo system doing weird things to my cheap-ass cassettes...
On Friday, I also discovered, quite wonderfully, that St John's Wort completely kills off the effects of PMT. :D (62 days this time; only 10 off my record of 72. Meh. Stupid body.) It was, needless to say, very nice indeed not to have the usual brain-explodiness.
We were - get this - up before 10.30am. Which is completely unthinkable, really... I don't remember what we did other than watch crappy television all day... we popped down the road for Vimto and painkillers at one point. Er... nope, that's actually all I remember. I had a 30 second nap at one point during an ad break because my eyes wouldn't stay open.
Er, more television. Mostly EastEnders (remind me not to miss two weeks' worth ever again...), something on DVD (curse my memory!), The Rutles (I fell asleep half an hour or so before the end, exhausted again) and Meet Joe Black.
I am finally back in credit with my flex-time, by a measley hour, but at least it's progress. I'll be using my five days of leave up in mid-February, most likely from the 20th onwards, and if I have a flex-day to use, all the better. I'm hoping to work ridiculously long hours this week to get through all of my bloody work (working on five of Shafiq's backlog per day, I should get them done by the end of the week, as I now only have 20 sets left, plus the current stuff) and gain some flex in the process. It shouldn't be this difficult to do more than 36.5 hours per week if I can just get up on bloody time in the mornings, but it's not as easy as it sounds, apparently... Honestly, those people doing 33.5 hours a week don't know how lucky they are. :P
I came home to a pile of post, including my stuff from Amazon (Twin Peaks Season 1 + Fire, Walk With Me, and Antony & the Johnsons' I Am A Bird Now, which I've heard some interesting things about...), a letter/cheque from my nan, even though I told her not to, and a large, scary parcel that turned out to be from Vicky and contain my My Fair Lady programme (she took it home with her because I didn't have a bag with me at the time) and a copy of OK! magazine with an interview with Yvette Fielding in it. She and Karl are the most adorable couple evar, and I want her house. Like, now.
That's about everything, I think. Oh, except I also came back to a deserted house (with a car outside...) because David's gone to pick up his new car today instead of Wednesday so they've taken it for a test drive... Anyway, it's nearly time for Paul McKenna, so I'll sign this one off...