Damn, was that only a week? Feels like at least two. I've spent most of the past seven days being knackered to various degrees.

I don't remember much about Monday. Nothing much happened, so that's not too bad. Tuesday was the quiz, and four pints of Black Douglas. I didn't realise it was closer to 6% than 3%... cue waking up at half four with the first steps of a hangover. Then, cue waking up at half seven with the rest of the hangover. Blargh. Hangovers don't make a good start for Wednesdays.

Because of that, I'd been off e-mail since Tuesday morning and didn't hear about the Beltane organisers meeting. Fortunately, I was able to catch up with akicif in the Judge, where we were joined by brain_hurts. Thursday... err... Thursday was spent being somewhere other than a pub. As was Friday. To be honest, work's been kicking my arse so bad that I needed the nights off in front of the telly.

Yesterday, we tried escaping the rugby to Glasgow. Unfortunately, the busses still had to go by bloody Murrayfield. We got there in the end, and I was able to acquire a bloody nice shirt. The shirt and I later made an appearance at Gigantor, where there was dancing, more dancing, Nellie the Elephant, yet more dancing, and general bouncing in a knackered fashion come the end of the night. I'd missed the last few, but it felt good to get back into the swing of bouncing around and getting rid of all the stress.

Today was breakfast, then the hill, and retreating to the pub before the rain got really strong. Next Sunday, I'll add to that by roasting us some form of animal. And phoning my mum, of course.