I woke up this morning at 6.43 am on the rocket clock, and briefly lay here with my eyes half open in a pleasant daze, thinking "how nice, it's Sunday, I don't have to get up" (possibly because the amount of alcohol consumed last night made it feel like a Sunday). The reality kicked in, I realised it was Wednesday and that I do, in fact, have to get up and go to work. Damn it. I never could get the hang of Wednesdays.

 

I also realised that sending drunk text messages to everyone you know asking them who they had a shameful crush on in the 80s may result in people, er, thinking you're a little odd. Especially when it's a Tuesday and they may not realise you were very pissy.