Look! We're in the Wild Bird Watch Zone!!
Kind of takes the fun out of Eider Ducks we get in our local cove. It's still all a bit "Well it could be this...Could be that." going on. Perhaps the swan they found on the beach came in on the tide? Could have died while flying over. Of course, he may have died en route, but his buddies might have landed on our soil. The countries are acting like "Ew, you've got cooties now!", not really, but it feels like that. We've got cooties.
Today they're looking at a bunch of dead seagulls. The news keeps telling us not to panic, don't make a drama into a crisis (that's just stupid, really. Politicians should read from teleprompters, and not speak their minds.) But, honestly, I'm not too bothered. Perhaps I'm susceptible to the "don't panic" messages being implanted into my head every 15 minutes. I'm already immune to it, I already shouting "Shut the fuck up about the dead bird!" I mean, I lived through the O.J. Simpson escapades, I watched the white bronco runaway, live. I kind of figure, that's enough for my large scale news interuptus. I'm not even going to start with 9/11.
Is that selfish; that I'm bored to death with news abuse? That the constant death and doom crimps my style and really, I'd rather listen to the Tweenies than another up to the minute update of nothing new at all? Why haven't dumb folks with "balls of steel" lawyer sued the news networks yet for making them depressed with all their gloomy-doomy reports? If they can sue McDonalds for making them fat, surely CNN can be sued for unworthy mood depressant. "I watched it for hours every day and it was always so awful; blood, bombs, death and then my home team lose! I was close to slitting my wrists." and of course we'd all shout "Why didn't you, you dick?" but still, they'd get plenty of air time on CNN.
Since I'm in denial, I'm not going to bother with all that birdie-piffle. I went to the gym today, pushed a little harder than normal. I've noticed my usual workout doesn't get my heart rate up as much as it used to, so I'm going to assume the machines are faulty, or I'm actually get fitter. Wouldn't that be a bitch?! I mean, I already feel like I'm pushing my limits, and now my body's trying to tell me "Push it MORE, bitch!!" I've got my own personal trainer lub-dubbing away in my chest. I mentioned to the hubs that I may actually be willing to pay (meaning he'll pay) for an annual membership, rather than paying per visit. Well, I did pay per visit in the beginning, then about a month ago I committed to buying ten sessions at once. So, the next big step is to go annual. It's a big step, but I'm quite happy about where this fitness malarky is going.
The past couple of days I've been really hungry. I seem to be having hunger pains all the time. I'm eating what I normally do, but at the moment, it's not been enough. I was using the pec-dec this morning when my stomach let out a ten second long growl that made the guy across from me look at me funny. I was worried he'd thought I'd farted, so I grabbed my tummy, made a face, and said something like "I swear I ate breakfast before coming in today." Then he laughed.
This also reminds me of an e-mail I got recently about a toilet that is my worst nightmare. I often have horrible dreams of desperately needing the toilet but can only find a toilet right in the middle of a busy shopping mall, and can't pee because everyone is looking at me and laughing at me. So this toilet - not cool.