Well, this hasn't been a terribly productive weekend.

Yesterday I took delivery of the newly released Star Wars DVD box set, and decided a good way to relax after a long week at work would be to sit on the sofa watching some number of the films. Unfortunately the box turned out to contain Return of the Jedi, The Empire Strikes Back, and … another copy of Return of the Jedi on a DVD labelled A New Hope. I've made arrangements to return it for a replacement; I hope that this time the error will turn out to be a one-off. If this is a problem with an entire production run like the fiasco with B5 season 3, Lucasfilm is going to have enough egg on its face to make the world's biggest omelette.

Then to the party at Milton Road (or ‘Lemoncurdistan’ as someone dubbed it in the pub on Thursday, in honour of its new domain lemoncurd.org.uk). Generally a good party, but several upsetting things managed to hit me all at once part way through it; I probably could have coped with any one of them at a time, but between them they gave me a serious desire to go and get properly drunk. So I did that (on Merlot and rose, uncharacteristically, since I've never got on well with either of those types of wine; but the alternative was a Shiraz so egregiously bad that even those were an improvement), and then went and nattered to Rachel/xanna about life, love, the universe and everything for some hours, and eventually emerged to find that it was 3:30am and everyone else had gone home. So I did that too.

Woke up this morning and really wished I hadn't. Any thought of doing something useful today after relaxing yesterday was immediately dispelled by a horrifying hangover of death. After a very long bath and some self-pampering I'm now feeling almost human, but not quite.