Thursday night skippeting

…in me-diary-style. Just in case the lack of sleep wipes it all from my brain later.

Being swung round by the elbow as a greeting. Rain and dripping buildings. Cocktails, although only appropriately-themed ones. Giant mutant silver ferns and angels that were all the wrong type. Tables with identity issues and mistaken identity of an Angel ep. Toilets all conspiring to torment me. A very scared waiter who may have guessed any number of things about us. Vegetable shortages. Skippet’s mint imperial. Old woman hairstyles and Litterbug (The Musical). The weirdness of being back somewhere that was my life 2 years ago, with someone who doesn’t at all belong there in my head. Oh – hitting of said head against wall panel due to laughter-induced collapse. Many laughter-induced collapses. Entirely non-intimidating glares and confirmation of how to *asterisk*. Flubbles the Tribble. Keys, and key-holes. Just general chat which surprisingly enough covered like, just the same variety of topics as emails do…but which hurt my ribs even more. A bed created of a jacket, a towel and a ribcage-dedicated pillow, with a strangling sleeping bag to round it off. Getting up before dawn. Surplus milk given to someone who otherwise would have had none…and the scalding of an oesophagus in the cause of tea. A carrier bag intent on self destruction (did you clang across England or was it more of a final smash?) and finally a gorgeous sunrise.

*nods sagely*

A good 12 hours. And only 5 of them wasted on that pesky sleep business.