Night Demons vs. Gym Bunnies.

You know what is a really awful feeling? When you're walking home after a night out, the sun is just coming up, and you're being passed by early morning joggers.

I feel the judgement emanating from those lycra-clad gym bunnies.

It's an even worse feeling than when the lights come on at the bar and you know it's their not-so-subtle hint that it's time for you to go home. But sometimes going home isn't an option. There's more dancing to be had and more discussions about pop music waiting for you back at a friend's flat.

"Bacon and Egg McMuffin please."

When those joggers pass me walking down K Rd, with my scruffy hair and smudged eyeliner, it makes me want to hide behind my coat and melodramatically shout "Don't look at me!" It makes me feel like a demon of the night. Demons don't do daylight.

The only way to deal with that situation is to remember that there was a very good reason for staying out that late (pop music is always a good reason), and that soon you will be in the comfort of bed.