Saturday, 27 February 2010

Weird World

Am at home with my 18 month old daughter Fiora (OHP devotees may be able to work out where that name comes from). She is asleep, which is where I ought to be since last night was somewhat reckless. It was a staff conference - on his Twitter page, James has pointed out the surreality of the moment when he and I chatted to the Mayor as an Amy Winehouse impersonator strutted her stuff behind us. However I partook of rather more red wine than I ought to have done and Sally, Fiora's mother, was in full Tongan warrior mode as, looking at her from three different directions at once, I swore blind I was as jober as a sucking fudge. As is my habit in these circumstances I fell out of bed and crashed to the floor, flailing my arms wildly as I did so. Today I have all the symptoms of a hangover and some others besides. Sally is giving me all the sympathy she feels is necessary: none.

Pondering OHP in such a condition does nothing to help so I won't. I'm off for an espresso and a lie down.
Sent using BlackBerry® from Orange

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