Woke at 11, had some lunch and off to work. Outside could hear the gay pride thing going on all day, cheering, fireworks, etc. It was very quiet, so I managed to type up a whole pile of notes.
Stayed there until 10 and then had to walk through Saturday night town, something that gives me the fear if I’m sober, even in Brighton. Met up with Duncan, Amelia and Charlie at the Sussex Arts Club for the monthly thing there, which is always a cool night. This time my favourite new innovation was a display board with scrolling text saying “You are having fun. This is fun.” It was strange to be going out clubbing straight after work, so I started necking beers as fast as possible to catch up with everyone. Bumped into Stewart, who I met in Prague a couple of times. He was a little surprised to see me, to say the least. Then he introduced to some bird he knew who’d “interviewed” me a couple of years back. Was getting on very well indeed with her when her friends came and physically dragged her away. When I found her again there was some guy with his hand on her lap and she seemed a little embarrassed. It’s so hard to pull in Brighton – all the girls either seem to be gayers or have boyfriends or are either hideous or out of my league.
Anyway, everyone left at 1 for some reason, hung around on my own for a bit then walked home. Why is it that decent nights out always sound miserable when looked back at the next day avec hangover?