Eight weeks down.

It's ten past eight. Teddy is in bed, and if the dance music upstairs quietens, Teddy is going to sleep.

For a long time.

It must be the end of term. And that's been some eight weeks. In many ways.

What worries teddy however is that there's a good chance he'll just get his usual sleep. So, see you at 1 am everybody.
Ever so slightly jaded Teddy.