It was my intention to actually do that - sleep, I mean - but I got caught by someone online. The next thing I knew it was two in the afternoon on Sunday. Ah well. I seem to have come awake at a normal time today without too many ill-effects. (If I tell you that I spent the entire time online writing slash about a guy from Japan and a guy from the Virgin Prunes, you won't have to ask, and you'll be glad you didn't. ~s~)
All gone a bit wrong today, though, so it's probably just as well that I'm leaving in an hour or so for Sussex, for a meeting with the only therapist who's ever done me any good. I'll be back in London tomorrow, but I doubt I'll be online the rest of today - maybe in the evening if mum lets me.
Not many reasons for it all having gone a bit wrong that I can actually talk about, but one of them is that Wes Wehmiller, former temporary bassist for Duran Duran, has died - yesterday, I think - aged 33. I saw him with them when I went for the Pop Trash tour; he seemed shy and charming. It's ridiculously sad and unfair and awful. ~sigh~