Scrabble this!

If I weren’t self-employed, I’d be blog­ging about how nasty work is, how I work with idiots, and how my bosses couldn’t tell a mar­ket­ing plan from a block of flats.

But I don’t have the priv­i­lege of being in that sit­u­a­tion, so I can’t blog about it. Instead, I’ll yab­ber on about how I enjoyed an extremely hedo­nis­tic week­end that was so unre­lent­ing I had to neglect writ­ing entries here for two whole days.

There is a tinge of guilt as I write this. The wife lan­guished at home over the week­end while I went out and par­tied, spent an inor­di­nate amount of time with one par­tic­u­lar girl, got drunk, danced till my kneecaps swelled, and then spent Sun­day arvo recov­er­ing on Orchard Road play­ing Scrab­ble with the same said girl.

A friend asked why I was rub­bing my knees,

‘Heh, why pain ah? Car­pet burn ah?’.

‘Yeah, right’.

I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing if my friends would rather believe I was hav­ing sex more than they’d believe I went clubbing.

Cof­fee Bean, Tea Leaf and Scrab­ble set