Oooof. I was out very late at a (v. fun) party last night and was planning to sleep for hours and hours and hours. But alas, I was woken at some ungodly hour this morning by the doorbell ringing (well, actually I was woken at an even ungodlier one by Patrick getting up and going in to work on a college film project, but it was so early that I managed to fall asleep again and have very odd realistic dreams). It was none other than the postman, delivering a vast parcel of other people's presents which I'd ordered from Amazon last week. Which was great, of course, but I wish he could have called later, as I couldn't get back to sleep again and hence am sitting at my desk in my dressing gown reading the very odd messageboards at the official Archers site (which make me thank God for strictly and well regulated forums) and feeling totally and utterly knackered. And a smidgen hungover. And sorry that I smoked last night after not touching a cigarette for over two weeks. Sigh. I think I shall spend the afternoon lying on the couch watching the Coronation Street omnibus.