I wasted half a day running back and forth trying to get some bedroom furniture that wouldn't fit into the van I'd hired - and even if they had, it would have needed 4 blokes to carry them - and then only to find out that there would be no chance of said furniture getting up our twisty staircase. £50 lighter and a morning robbed later, including a return dash to Sheffield... oh well.
I had lunch with my daft old mate Gordon, who's got himself a 7ltr Corvette... not quite mid-life crisis, but certainly getting there ;-) A curry and an Addlestones certainly sorted me out though.
Tonight it's a meal to celebrate (if that's the right word) Taran's tenure at Team17 and a bunch of us are off to Tampopo in Leeds for a nice meal and perhaps a cheeky drink or two. It's not often we have a "leaver" and Taran's off to Canada to join a company over there in Montreal, it's to be hoped that he packs his bloody thermals.
And finally, Kilburn had the temerity to suggest that my earlier blog didn't carry all the detail from the trip. Well, it had most, so what if I forgot one element that was me wandering around the bedroom in the early hours, confused, shouting "Quick! Quick!" - I do occasionally sleep walk... and I don't recall any of it. I'm sure there's a perfectly sensible and amiable explanation.
1 comment:
I don't sleepwalk, but I do tend to talk in my sleep. My ex-girlfriend recalls having a full conversation with me, during which we'd agreed to spend the following day at her parents. Apparently I'm promised "not to bring the penguin".
and then, of course, there's my friend Graham. He does sleepwalk, and I recall being woken up one night after a party because he'd decided, in his sleep, to walk into the kitchen, turn on the cold tap at the sink and then, for reasons no one has yet been able to determine, shout "F***ERS!" at the top of his voice. He still doesn't believe us when we tell him it happened.
Post a Comment