Thank-you to Bean for calling me on Friday night when I was indulging in some lonely whining, and Danny for trying to get me to the exhibition/Rob Roy, even though I couldn’t make it because cleaning Boat took longer than I thought it would. Poor Boat. I have to figure out a way to get it north. It’s so brave and true, weathering it’s separation, all alone *sob* I washed the outside, soaked up eight or nine buckets of water from under the floor, secured the hatch back on with rope (it had blown off at some point – thus the vast amounts of water) and generally perked it up a little bit. And got sunburnt in the process.
Last night was the second [bilby] gig at the Planet Cafe. I’m not sure why I drank beer, but I got on a bit of a roll. Thank god that I went home with Christine when I did, my head is a mess, I am subsisting on Panadols and water. I feel quite astonishingly vile. I think I was saved from feeling even worse by Jody greeting us with an amazing dinner, that we all sat and ate in a civilised fashion at about 1am.
For some reason, the most loathed air vent in my office has descended to sub-zero temperatures and I am about to go and fill the emergency hot water bottle (that N thoughtfully brought in last time this happened).