22nd February

Having noted my mother's birthday earlier in the month, it's only right that I acknowledge my father's. There are no informal societal rules about asking a man his age, so I have ascertained that he is 69. The most hilarious of all the ages, as Daniel Kitson recently posited. I bought him a Sunderland tankard as a reminder of the curse he bestowed upon me. He's doing alright at three score and nine, other than doctors poking him a bit. I hope he's got a few years left in him, but I guess you never really know. Sorry, bit maudlin.

Yesterday was quite jam packed. I watched both Moonlight and 20th Century Women before heading to the London Palladium for The Divine Comedy. Reviews of those things coming soon. Well, I find it difficult to describe TDC's music and my feelings on both films are not clear cut. So perhaps not that soon.

I got home shortly after midnight and struggled to sleep, probably not getting more than 4 hours. Consequently I found myself at best struggling to concentrate and at worst nodding off during college today. It's almost as though the days of being able to do what I want without any real consequences are coming to an end and I need to be more responsible and take care of myself and make sure I rest properly.

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