packing and cracking up

after a wild night / early morning drinking my mate val crashed on my couch only to be shaken awake by the sound of me frantically packing books. My dad was coming round to take away my personal library - the more runs he could do over the weekend before the move the better, so poor val ended up helping out.

As you can see the car was packed by my mathematician father and sponsored by gaffa tape.

After all that I met some friends to some barking but brilliant physical theatre ("How a man crumbled"). I managed to keep going until after the show when suddenly everything and everyone seemed really annoying and I had to leave. It wasn't them it was me. I was burnt out, microscopically thin skinned and tired. I went home and slept 15 hours. I realised since Thursday I'd only had 8 hours sleep. And there was a week of wild moving to come