I went down to London for a party with some old work chums. It was supposed to be a party open to loads of people but in the end only about a dozen turned up. It was ace though. It's been almost years since I last got drunk with that crowd in a bar. I miss them.
I miss London too. Even though the cottage is very lovely at the moment. I just feel like I'm coasting, which probably isn't a totally bad thing - I've got a job. So it's a good sort of coast.
I've not been proper drinking for a while, and so the next day I was pretty broken. Even a shower at work didn't help that much - and my new show gel smells like Jolly Rancher.
I was in the gym pre-shower on the cross trainer. I wasn't going to go mad or anything I just thought I should go as part of the program to try and make my knee less wonky. The gym lady ask how I was and so I said hungover before carrying on with working out.
After I finished my work out I got given a pamphlet about alcohol abuse and a table to fill in recording how much I've been drinking. It was a bit much, but the gym lady is harmless and terribly earnest. I'm not going to fill in, that's cos I'm a rebel yeah?
Not much else to report really. I've got a load of new stand-up material which I'm slowly turning into a routine and today I've got a date, although I'm not sure I want to go now. I've met someone in London. We've got a date arranged and everything.
I think I need to go to London more often, it's just a shame that the train costs more than a flight to Europe. I hate public transport.