I am going to Glasgow in just under four hours. Didn't sleep till two last night, then up at half seven. Have hardly slept at all this week, and yet I'm not tired. What's going on?
I have the biggest bag in the world, because it seems that I cannot go away for a weekend without half a library and 2/3 of the clothes that I own. Actually I have a theory that if you're going away for more than a single night, you hit a point where you don't need appreciably less stuff than if you're away for a year. I certainly lived out of a bag the same size as this for nine months.
Last night had two parts. The first part, while being actually really lovely, was one of those social occasions that reminded me quite how out of step I am with almost everyone. Not in a bad way, but it seems that the world I live in is just...differently centred, maybe? Like I've traced over it with tracing paper and then moved it a millimetre to the side. It looks the same, sort of, but is infinitessimally skewed. The second part of last night involved impromptu drinks with libellum in an unexpectedly pleasant pub in Mayfair, which actually felt like a secret pub, and was unequivocally lovely. I see myself spending more and more time with people I know from The Online, and I know that part of that is laziness, because I spent three days a week sitting in front of LiveJournal and it's so much easier to keep in touch that way than it is to go to all the trouble of making phone calls and sending emails - but part of it, also, is that it's sometimes easier to spend time with people who know me from the inside out rather than the outside in. Close friends and interbetsians, that's my life at the moment.
Christ I have a lot to do. I'm doing it, though. Mostly.