What Sundays are all about.

A horrid week at work ended with a brilliant weekend. A big Friday night at Tall Trees led to most of Saturday day being spent recovering in bed. Vinny had planned to visit to go for some indie dancing in Manchester on Saturday night, but we were both quite tired, for our own reasons. A couple of pints in the Vic with the football was a good start to the evening, but sushi and noodle soup at Wasabi was the start of a slippery slope. The pace of our conversation slowed after we'd eaten. "It's just the food Dave, we'll liven up in minute." We went to the Temple for a couple, but the signs weren't good. "Once we have a couple more beers Dave, we'll liven up." Nope. On to Odder. "A sambuca will wake us both up a bit," said Vinny. Then he fell asleep. Paul arrived. Vinny woke up. "I'll be alright by the time we get into the club Dave, we'll pick up."

Ouside Odder:
"Can't we get a taxi there Dave, I'm bloody freezing."
"You should have brought a coat Vince."
"Look, I'll pay for the taxi."
"It isn't very far away Vince."
"I'll pay for the taxi."
"Okay Vince."

At the bar of the Venue:
"I don't have enough money left to get any drinks."
"That'll be the taxi Vince."

Vinny fell asleep on the dancefloor. Standing up. Amazing.



Today Pippa came round with a cake she'd made for Paul and I, and then she took me out for my first ever driving lesson. We found a quiet spot in the car park at Christie's hospital, and went through biting point and how to start the car, before doing a little bit of setting off in first, and a little bit of steering. I didn't realise how much concentration driving involves until the lesson was over and a huge wave of relief washed over me. All credit to Pippa - she made me feel very relaxed and not at all nervous, which I'm sure helped with driving. Lessons ahoy, I think. After I got in, I saw the listings for BBC1, at 9pm tonight. How apt.