Ohhh.
So very, very tired.
Damn my inability to pass up a challenge and damn Aftershock to hell.
One day I'll remember my vow that I CANNOT handle Aftershock and I detest the stuff, and I will remember that if I want to go out drinking I will eat at least more than one meal a day.
It was E's younger sister's birthday see, in New Eltham, and most of the night sorta goes into a blur.
Except doing "oops upside my head" with E's youngest cousin T. (They will never think of me as the cool older sister they all want again.)
And then having a tearful Mutual Appreciation Society meeting with E later, you know the kind I mean.
"I fucking love you, and I'd kill anyone that upset you, and I'm so upset cos I want to help you but I don't know how."
"I fucking love you too, and I wanna help you too."
"We rule, d'you wanna nother drink?"
"Yeah."

Anyway, woke up at 9 and past out again and had a strange dream involving Paul Konchesky drawing something that looked vaguely like the leaning tower of Piza on his knee, after I had pushed him over, complete with little cartoon tourists taking pictures..
And going round to his house to watch Shrek in his bed, eating ice - cream and then I woke up.
Wierd...

So hungover and tired, I have made my way back to Derby in order to watch the Charlton/Liverpool match, however I'm finding it hard to rustle up excitement, even though I think there is a very, very good chance we'll win (I've doomed us now.)