Still at home, travelling to Letterkenny tomorrow, or Wednesday.

I’m better. Well, much better than I’ve been doing. Broke the fever. Might even take this robe off.

…Might.

Illness worse: going home.

I. Am. Sick.

Adam (the joker from hallowe’en… no, the one with the goatee) turned 24 today. So we celebrated by trying to have a Tommy Lee Jones movie marathon, and then giving up and watching comedy shows.

Happy Birthday you miserable asshole.

Hungover in Derry. There are few worse things to be assaulted with of a morning.