Getting things lined up for my memory's porpoises. I've been in the pub a lot, recently.

Tuesday: I forget. No, nothing. Stayed in and prepared to rant as combined sleep-deprivation and back pain hangover tried to kill me.
Wednesday: Hollyrood for a Torchie meeting, then home to write as I had work the next day.
Thursday: figg's birthday thing in the Hoose. Meet lots of people. Friends list expands (as always)
Friday: Skip the pub to move on to vodka and anime with gominokouhai et al. And ranting. I vaguely remember something about bacon as well.
Saturday: Wake up at late. go to Conpulsion. Watched new Doctor Who. Fucked off to the pub.
Sunday: Woke up earlier. Wandered around. Played CoH for far too long to be healthy. Fucked off to the pub, then Neon, which was full of people in town for Conpulsion, and thus shite. Any time it takes twenty fucking minutes to get a drink I get an urge to hurt people. Return depressingly sober and dig in to the emergency vodka.
Today: Play way too much CoH. Forget that I need to wash clothes. Debate going to the pub, but as it's likely nobody will be there what with people being away or in hospital or preparing to move (no names, no pack drill), going instead for a mini-reenactment of Friday, only finishing early because I need to iron some fucking clothes.

So that was my extended weekend. Christ, life is weird sometimes.