This was the most depressing of Friday nights.

We were packed into a static caravan the size of a railway carriage, not far from Quartermile. I’d been here before when it had been used as emergency accommodation for undergraduates at Edinburgh’s (then) Queen Margaret College in the 1990s. I distinctly remembered CT taking a corner “bunk” – a tiny space no bigger than a coffin divided from the next by a wooden screen.

Now I could barely see what was going on because I’d taken out my contact lenses and couldn’t remember where I had left my glasses. It was also very difficult to enjoy the party when I was worrying about the next grant proposal. Who should I name in our response in this massive bid to develop an e-learning platform? BK sprang to mind.

I left early, clutching my duvet, heading in the wrong direction. I’d forgotten that I couldn’t go straight home because everything that I needed for the next two days was still in my office. What a disastrous start to the weekend.