I'm always a little amazed that Paul and I are still friends: his memory is so good it's scary, while mine is so bad that it genuinely frightens me. Furthermore, Paul is always in control, and I am always the one that has to be put to bed against my will.

I woke up Saturday morning missing a lot of my Friday evening, but I had gained mysterious bruises and a new change of clothes. Interesting.

"I'm sorry if I was annoying and you had to deal with me," I told Paul.
"No, you weren't annoying at all - actually, you were the complete opposite of how you usually act."