Ho hum. I'm unreasonably tired.

Went back to work on Thursday, stayed there for two days and immediately went away again for a long weekend. Hardly worth bothering really, except that it'll be nice to start this week without a ghastly email backlog… Felt pretty tired on Friday night even after two days of work, which I attribute not to the long hours but simply to the fact that after two weeks off my body clock had finally managed to shift into a man-of-leisure time zone and resented being told to put everything back the way it was. Gah.

Saturday was my birthday, although you wouldn't have known just by looking at it since I spent most of it dashing around town and shops and getting cross with phone drones. Again. Still, things improved around 6pm when I went and watched X-Men 2 with Becky, Lucy and Wendy; much as expected, large over-the-top film with whizzy effects and daft plot. And an unexpected German accent. Then off to Janet's birthday party, via a brief dinner stop at Becky's (many thanks to her for volunteering to cook for the four of us, and cooking a sufficiently rapid meal to dissuade me from tarnishing my soul by going to Burger King :-). Party was fun, though I was rather uncomfortable for a while on arrival because it was very clear that I was way behind everyone else on the drinking. Though that was easily enough sorted out…

Sunday was the usual drill: get up late, faff aimlessly, wander over to the Gallery for Doctor Who. Unusually we were kicked out of the Gallery shortly after this finished, since Gareth had work to do, egads. So I enticed Owen and Ben back to mine for a bit, where I showed them a somewhat unhinged PS2 game a colleague had lent me and Ben actually bothered to work out how to play it (more than I'd managed).

And today, well, I intended to do lots of useful stuff but have in fact faffed aimlessly with graphics packages. Then at mid-afternoon I intended to stop doing that and do lots of useful stuff before going to pizza, but was unexpectedly invited to a Bank Holiday barbecue at Simes and E-J's, causing me to fail all of the above plans. The barbecue party was watching Preaching To The Perverted when I left, which is watchable but slightly made me want to jump up and down doing my ‘sex isn't funny’ rant[1], and in any case I was starting to fall asleep so I came home. But falling asleep at 9pm? Pah. Either I'm completely losing it, or my body clock is gathering inertia as I get older.

[1] I'm not claiming that sex is particularly unfunny. But there seems to be a school of thought that says sex is intrinsically funny, and that putting a sexual reference into something is sufficient to make it hilarious. IT ISN'T. You still have an obligation to wield actual wit and humour if you want things to be funny; sex is not a cheap substitute.