The unlived life is not worth examining.

• Gosh, who'da thunk it.

Why, yes, partying did help. I went out on a lovely date with faithais on Saturday. Being goths, with the organisational skills of goths, we couldn't work out what on Earth to do so went to the Dev. To drink and talk erudite aesthetic rubbish. And it was full of old punks. And it now serves BEER — Hobgoblin, both fish (on-tap) and no-fish (bottle). We approve. Now we just need to take less than four months to get it together for another date!

Having both had Weeks at Work, we were not entirely capable of speech until after about a pint and a half. ("You're cute. Buh." "So are you. Nice hair. Buh.") I've spent this week flat-out doing actual work, mostly documenting our in-house software. You'd think sysadmins would understand the need for documentation, having dealt with developers' phobia of it. And Confluence is proof that time is actually cubical in nature.

Earlier in the day, arkady and I took Freda to the church under-fives group barbecue. (No under-fives were barbecued in the production of this event, despite all temptation.) She can't swing herself yet, but she loves being in the swing and being pushed. Another girl started crying so she went up and hugged her. D'aw! (Well, actually the other girl was whingy, Freda hugged her and then she started crying. But Freda meant well!)

redcountess sold herself off for medical experiments so I can go to BiCon we can eat. She got up at 6am and left the house at 7:30am and all. I am ENORMOUSLY proud of her.