Have not felt inclined to write anything recently as I have been suffering from a bout of lethargy which left me incapable of all but the most basic of bodily functions. I seem to have passed through the worst of it now and no doubt a good dose of Dr. Jupitron's Invigoratative Liquor will get me back to normal.
The dark depression settled upon me just after we had returned from a Pagan festival in the countryside 2 weeks ago. Wortha and I had taken a trip there in good faith after hearing many a story of how much fun they can be. We had ample provisions for the weekend and I was looking forward to seeing how the country folk enjoy themselves. But when we got there it was if all hell had broken loose and everyone had descended into madness. Men and women were walking around clad only in the most inadequate of clothing. Poor Wortha barely knew where to look and appeared quite flustered. By nightfall all pretence of civilisation was cast aside as the throngs danced to the sound of beating drums and lanterns were flashed on and off in quick succession. A shifty looking man gave me some tablets and told me they would help, but, by God, they made things much, much worse. Grinning loons leered at me from all angles, women I hadn't been formally introduced to tried hugging me and all the while those damned drums kept beating their erratic rhythms. It was all too much for me and I retired to my tent early, but found it impossible to sleep with all the thoughts racing through my mind and an unbearable urge to suck on my teeth. Poor Wortha must have been unable to find the tent because she didn't return until almost 6 in the morning, looking very bedraggled with eyes the size of saucers.
We left as soon as we could the next day and I vow never, ever to go to such an event again.