It's all a bit "Dead Poets' Society"

The week ended with such promise. Work was done, the "Clone Wars" beckoned, then a band engagement, and then perhaps a night on the town.

Oh, what a fool I was to believe such things.

Actually, I rather enjoyed "Clone Wars". For a change, the absurd adverts and trailers at the cinema worked in my favour, because we arrived slightly late, found there was a queue, watched the single assistant work more slowly than I previously thought possible, and so got into the theatre just in perfect time for the Lucasfilm logo to appear. Huzzah!

It wasn't the best film ever, nor even the best of the year or month (that honour belongs to "The Dark Knight"). But it was fairly enjoyable as far as it goes. Bubblegum for the eyes - a sweet taste for a while, but absolutely no lasting impression.

Saturday was spent buying presents and watching "Stargate". My game was cancelled, as the wedding at which the band was playing required my presence at 7:15, which was just too early for the game to occur. Given an extra hour, or better two, and we would have been good to go.

So, I got ready, and went to the hotel, arriving at 7:05 ("five minutes before five minutes before", as someone once told me). At 7:12 the phone rang - the Pipe Major apologised for forgetting to let me know of a time change. We weren't needed until 9.

I returned to the hotel at 9, and we played. Naturally, during the performance I learned that a key change had been made to one particular piece on Thursday (the one practice I have missed in the past month), leading to me making a key, and very noticable, mistake. Damn.

And then, because we had started late, we finished late, which meant the night on the town was cancelled. Probably just as well, since someone had thought it would be hilarious to say, "Stephen ruined the wedding" in an annoying sing-song, just loud enough for the whole band to hear.

So, I returned home, and watched the concluding episodes of the eighth series of "Stargate". Then I retired for the night.

Today has been totally uneventful, thus rendering the weekend something of a catastrophe.

I really don't want to go back to work tomorrow. It's going to be yet another hard week. Not only is work going to be tough, but from Wednesday my evenings are going to be a never-ending party, the likes of which the world has never known. And I really don't feel like making merry.

Sometimes, I just want to shout my frustration to the heavens, to scream a barbaric yawp to the world. But such things are just not done, you understand, and so we persevere.

Plus, I seem to have completely lost the taste for alcohol. I can't even drown my sorrows. Gah!