Because when I'm this tired it's the equivalent of being drunk.

Eyes can be tricky. Some people can't see through them without the aid of bits of glass and stuff. Some people only have one, and as a result have to wear a patch, a black one, and then they are forced into pirate fast track schemes and then someone cuts one of their legs off and they develop a peculiar penchant for bandanas as a result.

I don't have this problem. My eyes are being tricksy with me only in that they won't stay open quite as well as I might quite like them to today. And if I do succeed in keeping them open I have trouble seeing round the matchsticks.

The gig last night was great. It was in this bar just off Regent Street. It was really rather plush, lots of red velvet curtains, chandeliers, candles, dark brown leather seating and a huge gilt mirror behind the small stage. It was cool. I sang. I'm too tired to describe the night properly. There was one guy whose piano skills were incredible. Then this other guy whose singing was incredible. Loads of my friends were there, and actually one of the reasons I feel so tired is the sheer socialness of it. I love that socialness, it just exhausts me, and causes me to be tired and then to start making up words hither and thither (see: socialness) and using extremely outdated phrases that nobody has used for about fifty years (see: hither and thither).

Tonight I need the sleep. The straight-on-the-train-home-after-work, crappy-TV-watching, bed-early variety Friday night. Tomorrow I'm meeting some people to discuss November's event, and then I'm going down to Brixton to meet some friends here to go to this.

I'm tired now, though. Not as tired as I was on the hour long nightbus journey across the whole of London last night, but still up there with the worst cases of sleep-deprivation torture known to man. Probably.