Sleep

I staggered home in an advanced state of inebriation at twenty past midnight. Earlier on I had promised myself a spot of supper and a Laurel & Hardy film when I got home, but it was not to be. It was straight to the loo, straight out of my clothes and straight into bed. I put on the second cd of Handel's Semele, and it's a gorgeous work. The last thing I remember is Anthony Rolfe-Johnson singing Where'er You Walk. I woke up at half past six feeling very sloshed, and eventually crawled out of bed at ten past eight.