Wednesday, 14 October 2009

Backsliding

Location: In bed
Mood: Tired
Music: United States of Eurasia

This is really annoying. I got on the scales this morning and discovered that, not only have I lost no further weight, I've actually put on a pound. Still, I suppose I've been too busy to exercise since my long run on (?? Sunday was it?) and even though I've been careful with food, it's just not enough to actually help lose the weight. I wanted to go to the gym yesterday, but no go - too many things going on, not least the arrival of Sister, Islander and sons who arrived in a whirl of toys and demands to play The Monster Game. (This is Buzz: The Monster Game for PS2, which I highly recommend for great family fun).

Today, Sister and Islander went to Edinburgh to do some necessary stuff they can't do on The Island, leaving us holding the babies. All was ok, but Wrecker is feeling under the weather at present, and is a bit whiny. All he wanted to do was play the Monster Game, and I got slightly tetchy with him after he asked for the 25th time. They aren't allowed PlayStation until late afternoon (after 4pm), and have to spend the day doing more active, interesting things. This involved playing Barnyard Bingo, painting, playing hide and seek in the bale-field, climbing on top of said bales, and feeling perfectly well enough to delight in a large chocolate ice cream at the local dairy (but ONLY after he'd had a cheese sandwich). Gemmill, meanwhile, was very busy excavating Egyptian treasure from a large block of ... stuff (like soft sandstone), which looked like a brilliant game but did leave a layer of red dust over everything. Very authentically Egyptian, to be sure, but I don't really want to be sifting red sand out of my cornflakes unless there are bloody pyramids a stone's throw away. He also enjoyed romping in the bale-field - but, I gotta tell ya, children are exhausting. I think the problem lies in the fact that they wake you up at some ungodly hour of the morning, thus upsetting your Circadian rhythms and not allowing you the chance to acclimatise to their jet-lag effect.

I had to take the Drover in to the Drover Doctor to fix the faulty handbrake light that kept coming on. I was expecting it to be a problem with the switch itself, and was therefore glum to find out that one of the brake calipers was leaking, meaning I was losing brake fluid. This meant a 45 minute wait while they fixed it (I know - I'm not really complaining, especially as they only charged 30 minutes labour) and a whacking great £175 bill. Sigh. Bloody Drover.

While I was waiting, reading a back issue of Land Rover World (must buy Wheeler a subscription for his birthday. Oo. Hope he doesn't read this, as will ruin the surprise. Can't imagine that he does. Is far too busy/lazy and important/dyslexic) I felt an immense weariness come over me, and before I knew it I was napping in the waiting room, my Land Rover World drooping onto my chin. Never have I felt so perilously close to old age before. Sad. I was awoken by the charming tones of a Renfrewshire lass bouncing through the doors, demanding a sump guard for 'Wallie'. Whether 'Wallie' was her boyfriend, father, brother or Land Rover I will never know. Order placed, she then turned, took one look at me, laughed heartily and somewhat bafflingly, and bounced out again.

Home again home again, just in time to change, snatch a few precious moments to try and wake up, and head out for my evening massage. My Thursday client is lovely, and very chatty, so we spend quite a lot of time over the whole process, meaning I wasn't back until 8. Luckily, I returned to discover delicious curry smells permeating the air and dinner being prepared by Islander. Not only that but there was footie on the telly - so I recorded the England v Belarus game and watched it after supper. A good, solid 3-0 win for us - although the homoerotic fawning over David Beckham by Andy Townsend and Steve Bruce was slightly nauseating. He was only on for about 20 minutes but they gave him Man of the Match - which was ridiculous, and insulting to Peter Crouch, who had a very impressive game.

That brings me to here. In bed. At just gone midnight. Preposterous!! Just because I'm now officially 33 (by 15 minutes) doesn't mean I have to suddenly start falling asleep in the afternoons, working for a living and going to bed at 11.30pm. Must do better!

Oh - and ought to try and lose some weight pretty soon.

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