An email from Weezer saying that her nice dog Louie (whose picture has previously featured on this site) had died. Weezer and Troy are naturally very sad about it. And he was much loved by them. I enjoyed seeing him only the other week wearing small socks, which Weezer had made him wear to stop him falling over.

Dozing fitfully on the train, and once at work there were mysteriously sudden & urgent deadlines to meet. So most of the day spent slogging. Turns out most people who went to the flashy Bluebird restaurant last night had upset stomachs except for me.

After work I travelled to Portsmouth for Jane and Christian's leaving for Australia party. Met a few ex-colleagues I'd not spoken to for over five years which was quite fun. Anton then drove us back to Brighton. He finally got closure on his recent musical huffiness by blasting Jean-Jacques Burnell's wretched Euroman Cometh on the CD player of his car as we aqua-planed Brighton-wards in heavy rain. Picked up a bleary looking Baby Klauds from the baby minder then home.

Got in and drank tea and spoke to my beloved till late, a gale howling noisily down my Twitten.