I am so not a nice person. When invited to Bek’s dad’s 60th birthday party, I couldn’t understand why I’d been invited. So I started searching for answers, and, Thursday night, my brain worked out a plausible scenario when Bek telephoned: “Hey, can you please drive me and a carload of my relatives to and from the party?”

Uh huh. So I’d solved the mystery. I was invited to drive people around. Except, when I did my duty and drove everyone, Bek and her family were genuinely grateful, which initially confused me, but as the evening progressed, it became plain that I wasn’t invited for my ability to provide transport, but to share the experience with friends and family. I felt awful that I’d immediately assumed that I was a chaffeur for hire.

Isn’t it wierd that sometimes we do that - assume the worst? In the self-obsession that your brain indulges in moments of boredom, we construct vastly elaborate scenarios where other people’s motives are made to look selfish, and we portray ourselves as the victim.

Saturday was a market day, great fun, etc. That afternoon was Leyton’s nerd fest: a LAN day. It was pretty awesome actually - a constant supply of junk food and violent action. Soldier of Fortune 2, which you may recall I was playing single-player many moons ago, made an appearance and was just awesome in multiplayer. AWESOME. Battlefield 1942 was then brought out, and I took an extended break. I really don’t like that game … it just doesn’t have the “it” that makes a game rock. I left at about midnight.

Next day was supposed to be 24, but Bek piked early on and we rescheduled for today. I’d gone and picked up the computers and stuff from Leyton’s place, and gone to John’s place for afternoon tea. Evening spent at home in front of television, wishing I had some Lemon Diet Coke.

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