Saturday, September 11, 2004

That Stefan Warburton is trouble

Last night we were invited to join Ian's celebrations for finishing his thesis. We decided that we should be grown up since we had Chris Roper, managing director of Pug Fugly games and his lady wife, Rae, visiting today, and not drink too much or go to bed too late. Everything went to plan, we rejected tempting offers to go to Rios and Sugar and left Zest at around 11.

It all should have been fine - but we went for a quick drink in Robbin's Well with our neighbour Steve, which turned into three pints which turned into a bottle of wine at his house. John fell asleep on Steve's sofa while Steve talked nonsense at me for around three hours. When we decided it really was time to go home, John rejected the sensible road route and instead decided to take the dangerous canal route into our small conservatory. With the patio doors being locked he had to bang on the glass and scream like a girl until I came to rescue him. John does not recall this.

Planned time to bed: midnight. Actual time to bed: 3.30am. Sleep debt: 3.5 hours.


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