Everything is a bitch.
Except Russ and Nick, and Ninja Tune, with whom Thursday night was happily spent experiencing Xen at Cargo.
Except Ken, with whom Friday night was absorbingly spent exploring the terra incognita that is outer London. And Tom Stoppard, for writing the lovely Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, which I probably didn’t do justice to as a member of the audience after an entire day of studying and an incredibly tedious debate committee meeting, but enjoyed immensely nonetheless.
Except lovely people in my hall, with whom most other nights are satisfyingly whiled away with bad TV and strange conversations and Aftershock. Which is 80p at our bar. :)~
Okay. Suddenly I feel better. Back to contract law.