(no subject)

I've felt rough all bleedin' day. So, so rough. Work yesterday breezed by, but it meant I only snatched an hour playing catch-up with sleep in the afternoon before having to run about the house getting ready for the Christmas party. I ordered a taxi for 4pm, so of course it turned up at half past three. From then there was drink, and Nando's (that chicken place) and constant knockbacks at the bar. Apparently, everyone's supposed to be carrying their passports around the city now to get a drink. I am not carrying a document like that around on nights out. I think I'm just going to have to work at gaining some wrinkles before I stamp "ALMOST 25" on some snooty bartender's head.

Anyway, I went home early because I didn't feel so good, and I just wasn't really in the mood for drinking, anyway. I'm coming down with a fever (I'm really out to sea!) and, to top it all off, That Monthly Thing decided to kick in. Hence, I spent half the night contorted with pain in bed before giving in and seeking out the Paracetamol. Three Lemsips and six tablets later this evening, I still feel dizzy but at least... at least... *looks for upside*

Aha!

patchworkgirl_ is a shifty sort of wench. Being the lazy thing that she is, she just linked to my Franz recap for her journal's readers to look at. Here I'll repay the favour and just link to some of the pictures she took at the Franz Ferdinand concert last week:

Bob. Bob. Bob. And Alex's posterior.

Also, feel free to join the cankle debate in that there journal, though be careful. She bites.