It’s as hot as hell. Although the weather bureau says it’s only about twenty degrees, I can assure you it’s much warmer, or at least it’s far more humid. We’ve had bushfires, we’ve had high levels of humidity. It’s hideous and I hate it. It’s Thursday night/Friday morning and I have just arrived home.

I have been to the Walkley Awards. I was in quite good company. Although I was tempted to take Kerry O’Brien’s name-tag and pretend it was all an honest mistake, I eventually decided not to.

Nonethless, as Sydney traffic was incredibly busy tonight, I had to catch a cab across town and walk the rest of the way. By the time I arrived I was a little warm. Thank goodness there was a lot of fluid available to the stress my body hat been put under.

I had an SMS from Damien after the awards ceremony was finished mentioning that he saw me on the television coverage. I messaged back, asking “did I look thin?”. He messaged back with the right answer.

Chat chat chat. Drink drink drink. A great fun night. Got home at a reasonable hour and I kept myself nice. Actually, a tip for the future… I set myself an “alarm” on my phone which rang me at 12 and told me “time to go home, loser!”. Which I did.

This was my second drink fest for the week, having also attended the Book Publicists Christmas Drinks which, this year, featured some gorgeous red drinks. It was held at the Arthouse Hotel.

Anyhoo…..

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz