I'm ready to leave this town, city, country and head off to pastures new. I only have to get the passports sorted and we can be mobile very quickly. Our house would sell in short time as it's a desirable area and money is stable and I'm just damned well ready to head out.
The only counter to this is that Husband just bought a new car. We took it out on a two year lease (at my insistence) - the shortest lease term available - and Husband loves it. He looooooves it. So I think as we're not likely to take the car with us to Japan, he's going to want to spread his love over the mechanical beast for as long as possible. He bought an Alpha Romeo 156 2.0 sport turbo diesel(2005). He's had breakfast, got dressed and went or a drive. Alone. To play with his new car. And I made him blueberry pancakes, the selfish twat. Anyway, while he's away with his new mistress...
I'll be running later. I have two miles to clock in today. I wonder how long this drive will take. Anyways, running. Will be doing farklets today so I'm road running, as it's a pain to readjust the speed on a treadmill and I just end up nearly falling on my face in a graceless heap. I do one minute full speed, two minute coll down, one minute full until I feel like I'm going to puke. I've never puked. Will I look ridiculous? Probably, to anyone lame enough to think some lady jogging full pelt down the road is ridiculous, and if they do they're just jealous lame-ass losers anyways, so nyah. This will be a cardio heavy, weights light week. Weights will be purely for maintaining tone and will only do two sets of ten. I want to get to three miles running, by saturday, in thirty five minutes.
The hardest part is ignoring the voice in my head that begs me to stop. It whines even when my body isn't tired and just trotting along happy. It's annoying. It tells me I can't, even though I clearly can. By the time my body really does begin to get tired, the voice is relentless. This is the point where I can quit and slow to a walk, or speed up and pound the hell out of the voice until it's left a whimpering, abused mess. I opt for mess more often than quit. I hate a smug negative voice. Now, sometimes it's being honest, but it has cried wolf so much I've learned to ignore it. So when it told me on Monday that the running and reverse crunches were too much, I ignored it. Then I suffered with such a tender abdomen that I could feel waste moving through my colon. That's really freaky. Menstrual cramps set off IBS-like cramps and I walked uncomfortably clenched for a couple days. (I know, TMI, but TMI is truth and people love the truth. Regardless of the fact The Enquirer has such a huge distribution)
I miss soap operas.
I need a book. I got a book that's part of a three book series, by Kelley Armstrong, by chapter three I was left feeling, I've either missed a lot of shit or she should've started this series sooner, but I ended up grabbing the third book and not the first one. So, back to the library I go....OK so I go to Amazon and look to see what the first book is and This Is The First Book! So really, she's started this series with a ton of back story. Why not make it a longer series? I dunno. Now feeling blah. I've had two weeks' vacation and not read a single book. I guess I prefer to stress read, when there's more demand on my time. Give me tons of free time and I become an uninspired blob. This book must be returned tomorrow as someone else is waiting for it. So, just gnr.
I'm waking up to the signs of Spring with a perkiness. Biological clock now happy to wake at 7am. Libido returning, energy returning. I can see the bulbs starting to sprout in the garden and that means narcissus and daffodils are not far away - maybe four weeks. I'm so happy the Rugby Six Nations is on (Rugby players are hot). I'm also happy Husband has been gyming it up and he's getting his energy back, feeling better about himself and healthier and, hooray! His libido is coming back too. Thank Chuck for Spring and Gym. Did you hear me say Hooray?
Drinking a little bit of wine makes me feel very warm and cozy on a cold rainy day. Warm. cozy. wine. Spring. libido. Recipe for disaster. I love Husband's vasectomy. If I were a cat I'd stretch and yawn until my tongue curled and then purr while pawing the softest blanket in the house.