The morning after
By lex, on May 6th, 2007
And I definitely need some class of a pill.
I have fallen in with villainous company, and it was near to the death of me. Your correspondent is a much reduced man at not quite 1100 on a Sunday morning. Fortunately I have 1) many hours before I lay my daft head down on a Sandy Eggo pillow, and 2) I’m not the man flying the machine on this particular cross-country.
Westward-bound cross-countries were always the hardest on a hangover, I have been told: Facing the setting sun for ever and ever, it seems. It’ll be darker in the cabin, and I count that as a blessing.
Fun weekend though, and glad I came (although I had some initial misgivings). Met a lot of really fine people that I’d only known virtually as well as some really fun folks that I didn’t know at all. It’s certainly a little strange when someone you’ve never seen before walks up and shakes your hand, seeming to know a very great deal about you. The panel went about as well as could be expected, and there was much wisdom, good laughter and a few frank tears before it was all said and done.
A good crowd, and one I’m proud to be associated with.
Apart from that last set there, at the end. Rascals. Mere scamps.
It’s shattered, I am.