Would you just look at the time? Who in their right mind blogs after 10pm? Surely this is the domain of rock stars and the like? And to begin with four questions in one paragraph must be a record of some sort (not to mention a grammatical minefield of wrongness)?
I haven't been insanely busy or anything. I could have written something earlier but I was way too busy kicking back on the couch with a bar of chocolate and a multipack of crisps. The dieting isn't going so well.
Zumba was mentioned briefly at the beginning of the week. I've not gone into detail because I've been slowly mulling it over ever since. For anyone who missed it, my friend Lynn and I attended a local class as a starter for our get fit aprés 40 thing. It seemed a great idea, all that fun and frollicking, booty shaking and dancing. Only we hadn't thought it through, had we? Lynn has arthritis and has been plagued with painful hips ever since. I've been OK, amazingly, but I really didn't enjoy the nauseating women who ran the class, or my own personal lack of co-ordination that meant I simply couldn't follow what was going on and thrashed around like an electrocuted squid. It wasn't pretty. Then theres the fact that I'm a recluse and hate groups of people. Oh and I can't dance, nor do I enjoy latin music. I'm an intelligent woman. How come my brain decided to part company while the attending zumba class decision was being made? Blimey.
So Lynn and I made a date a few days after the class in order to discuss our feelings on the matter. A sort of debriefing if you like. We'd been undecided on the night itself, mainly due to spending the hour afterwards trying to catch our breath and stop sweating. I was also freaked out at falling over my own feet and almost plummetting to the ground amidst an array of splintered bones. It's only a matter of time before a zumba related death occurs, you mark my words.
Lynn can't do it again due to the pain she's in. I won't do it again because it was horrid. We've mutually decided that the whole thing is all rather undignified and therefore not to be spoken of again. So the search is now on for some sort of exercise that is both enjoyable and doesn't make me look like a freakshow special. I'd prefer something that doesn't involve moving too much - and before anyone starts calling me on that and laughing - there's stuff like rowing machines and exercise bikes that are much more demure than falling over your own feet at a dance class. Only I can't afford a gym membership. Thinking caps on!
I shall try and work tomorrow, despite it being Saturday. My darling husband is going geeking (that's all we need to know, explanations would be long-winded and pointless) so I have several hours to fill. It may also assuage my guilt for doing bugger all today apart from a few more crochet flowers, which are hardly a gigantic undertaking.
And so off to bed. I'm thinking of the days when I used to stay up 'til 2am and still function the next day at work or uni or college or whatever. I'd often be hung over too. Nowadays I don't drink and I'm almost always in bed well before 10pm. When does this happen to a person? I blame my last job where I became quite obsessive about not being tired during the day, as I would lose concentration and be unable to do a tap. It really didn't help that I was sat on my ever growing posterior being bored silly for 8 hours a day. You show me any human being who can thrive in that sort of environment and I'll show you an air-headed moron with nothing between the ears but a bit of fluff and a half chewed jelly baby. Creature of habit me, even with my sleeping pattern.