My plan was to catch the last train back to Bristol at about 11:30, but the party was most excellent, and the casino theme and associated roulette playing meant that the time passed really quickly, and it seemed foolish to leave so early.
Then K offered me a spot on t'sofa, so I gave up on the idea of rushing off and instead succumbed to a night of gambling, nattering, drinking1 and otherwise excellent socialising. Much fun was had, by many people in some quite swanky outfits -- Arry had said to dress for the occasion -- and I enjoyed it all.
All, including the going back to K & A's place with several other revellers and not actually quite managing to go to bed.
As a result, I'm now back in Bristol, and feeling remarkably together for someone who's been up for nearly 30 hours. Now all I've got to do is make it through to a sensible time to actually go to sleep, i.e. one which won't completely screw my body clock while still allowing me to get lots of catch-up kip. Ho hum.
I've stopped drinking the caffeine, which has probably been propping me up quite successfully. When I crash, I'll crash...
In other news, I'm too knackered to think of other news. More tomorrow, maybe, if I haven't changed my name to Rip Van Gibson and decided to hibernate for the summer (aestasate?)
1Okay, so I wasn't drinking drinking, personally...
