For those who read my column regularly you may (or may not) have noticed that I have been a bit off the radar lately (i.e. there has been no Croydon Nights for a while).

As much as I would love to spin a grand tale of how I have been jet-setting across the globe sampling the nightlife of countries afar that would unfortunately be a lie. The far less interesting truth being that I have had a few exams. Oh and yes, it really has been that exciting.

So for the last six weeks instead of hanging out in bars, having fun and being silly I have been hanging out in libraries, being boring and acting sensible. Interesting reading? I think not.

But last week, after what seemed like an eternity, the torture which I had (for some unbeknown reason) voluntarily entrenched myself in finally came to an end. And boy was I glad.

I had already decided in advance (six weeks if I remember correctly) that the day would be marked. Whether I would be celebrating in glee, anticipating the amazing results that were soon to come my way or burying my head in the alcoholic sand of despair and wondering why I ever bothered... either way a night out would definitely be in order.

And it was very nice to discover on waking up from a world of books, reading, writing and attempting to learn things that suddenly everything was a bit different. The sun seemed to have eclipsed the clouds, people were smiling and I have to say, things were looking pretty darn good.

So, not wanting to miss what potentially could be the only opportunity of the year, I made a suggestion; it involved some beer and a garden and I have to say it went down a treat. It seemed the sun had been the perfect medicine to the working week and everyone was coming out to play in their droves.

So for the first time in six weeks I raised my glass. To the end of the 'E' words.... oh and how good that alcoholic sand felt!