... sometime ago, I could handle going out on a Sunday night and go to work on a Monday morning - it's not the alcohol (honest!) but rather the lack of sleep that's making me slightly dodgy this morning.
Sign of age, I suppose - the ol' metabolism cannae take it, cap'n.
Still, it was a good night: had a meal, few drinks with my erstwhile co-writer on a comedy script which we've finally finished and about to send off to the BBC. Will it get anywhere except the slush-pile? Fuck knows, but you've gotta give it a go...
Too much "what if's" in the world has it is.
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