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Having come home tonight for the first time since Thursday, I’ve realised, not before time, that I’m a shell of the man I was five days ago. Friday night’s drunken antics on the dancefloor of The Drink in Guildford with Nick meant Saturday was designated a firm “rest” day. Saturday evening’s drunken antics in Ealing with Jac prompted more cries of “I feel like death” and “I’m too old for this” on Sunday morning, and Sunday’s night’s visit to Watford to watch the wonderful Toploader in action only served as a reminder that my poor body can only stand so much. Monday morning at work was a washout, and Monday night’s meeting in RSVP topped what was already the most expensive and exhausting long weekend for a while. Most amusing moment of the entire weekend, though, was the appearance of a virtually redundant female bass player on one of Toploader’s supporting acts. Forgetting where I was for a moment, and realising too late a lull in the noise of the crowd, I yelled as she grabbed the bass guitar, “Does that LOOK like a kettle?”. Several glares later, and after watching Jac cry with laughter for nearly 3 minutes, I ate my hat as the band, Easyworld, turns out to be rather good.