Life's like that, isn't it?

Internet connection went down on Friday night. Not back up again until Monday morning. Do you people have any idea the sort of pain I was in this weekend?

Alleviated somewhat by amusement. End-of-month drinks at the Male's firm; though I don't work there, I was invited, and not by him. One of the girls he works with has decided I'm just wonderful. Apparently it's my ability to ask for free wine and subtly make fun of guys who try to pick her up (and honestly, he wouldn't have known I was standing there until I started talking). She's lovely, and lots of fun, and so are the other girls, so that was all good.

Also: play called Scaramouche Jones, starring Pete Postelthwaite. I avoid one-man plays, because you're so much at the mercy of the single performer, but I figured Pete could pull it off. And he certainly good. Highly entertaining.

Further: house-hunting. Much more amusing to me than the Male, probably because he's done more of it than I have, and the novelty's worn off. We saw a few utterly wrong places, one halfway decent, and one lovely one that he's quite in love with. I'm uncertain. What on earth does one do with four-metre ceilings? (He suggests ropes and ladders and a ferret playground. I'm in favour of dancing girls in cages.)

To cap it all off, last night the flat above us flooded their bathroom. Or rather, they flooded our bathroom. Now there are big fan blowers all over the place, and a man crawling around inside the ceiling.

The fun never stops, I tell you.