Personal Blogs

Hmm, so after my run the other day, my irritating friends decided they would wind me up in the best way they know how.  Telling me that I had not, in fact, run half of a marathon.  I put a photo up of my 21km reading from the treadmill.  Within minutes someone had pointed out that I was 90 metres short of my self-proclaimed achievement.  So I posted a comment under my photo stating in no uncertain terms, that anyone else to pass comment would be liable to my wrath.  Foolish move.  My phone beeped for England.  I tried to let it go, but stubborn and competitive as I am, I could not.  So today I ran 15 miles.  Nobody can now dispute that I achieved the half marathon distance.  I wasted the morning doing it, but I have at least made my point.  It is so easy to wind me up about specifics like that, and although it sends me into a fury, it also brings amusement to my world, which is something I like, even when it is at my expense.  Which is lucky, because it usually is.

That reminds me, yesterday on the train, my friend and I were discussing intellect - what it means, who has it and so on.  I reminded him that my flaw in that area is total gullibility.  Unless I concentrate very carefully, I miss all sorts of stupid things.  He immediately said that gullible was a word they had taken out of the dictionary.  Before I had thought about it, I was so shocked at the prospect of gullible having been removed, and almost upset by the notion, that I launched into a full-blown freak-out, until his uncontrollable laughter caused me to backtrack, realise what had happened, and wish (as ever) that I had thought before I spoke.

I realised today that I have less than two weeks before my assignment is due, and less than four weeks until the exam.  The receipt of this previously avoided information has impacted in a very real way.  I'm quite glad I decided to access it after my run, or I suspect that I would be feeling quite on edge round about now.

The building work is STILL going on.  So there's banging to the right, and drilling, and to add to that particular loathesome provocation, our next door neighbours' children have developed squirrel-like behaviour, and are scurrying about rather than employing the more accepted human movements that I would have thought were surely bestowed upon them at birth.  Of course it could just be that they have a rat infestation or something equally alarming.  Best not to think of it, especially given the exceptional volume of rubbish they produce.  I've counted seventeen bags before.  What?  No, I didn't stand outside someone's house and count their rubbish bags in fit of rage like an old woman with no friends.  Don't be ridiculous. 

The landlord of my local got in Crabbies at my request some time ago, and is supposedly complaining that after I went to such great lengths to force him to supply it, I never come in to drink it anymore.  He's quite right, so tonight I will.  Just for him.