I Live For Tuesdays

That of course concludes our brief tour of this time in 2004. We hope you'll fly with us again at Nostalgic Bastards, and avail yourself of some of our many tales of joy and fuckwittery.

Anyway, how the Devil are you all, here in 2011?

Blood this morning was 5.2. Been a fairly uneventful week round these parts, all in all, which is why I didn't think you'd mind a little time-travel trip. In the here and now, it is of course the night before a weigh-in, and I need one of Hermione Grainger's handy little Time-Turner devices, because if's gone 8 o'clock at night, and there's food to have and a blog to write and Other Essential Stuff to do, and then of course there's biking with a faint whiff of Xenical-orange and a hefty tot of Desperation. It's sort of weird being close, but not quite close enough to a stone-barrier to be exciting. I'm hoping that tomorrow, I'm at at least close enough to be genuinely excited by proximity. I've been doing some biking this week, and some walking, but nowhere near what I used to do - I don't want to have the toe get pretty much better, and then knacker it again, cos this was supposed to be a weightloss blog, and a weightloss project, rather than a fell-on-my-ass sickness and injury diary.

Oh and I'm getting freaking bingo-wings, by the way - my arms have always been like overstuffed sausages, full enough to squeak. Now, as time goes on, I'm un-stuffing, and getting flappy skin where plump chippolatas used to be.

It's so far past the time I should have started doing this, but dammit, before I sleep tonight, I will break open the box that's become part of the furniture in our bedroom - the box of free-weights that I got some months ago for...some reason I can't even remember. I may not, in all honesty, use them tonight - I refer you back to the Time-Turning quality of this evening - but they're going to stop being furniture tonight.

And so on to tomorrow - day of hope and possibility and potential joy or disappointment...
Y'konw sometimes I wonder if anyone else in the country, or even the world, feels this way about such a generally nondescript day as Tuesday any more. It's a weirdly resonant thing - the first thing that drew me to d, all those years ago, was a piece she wrote, called I Live For Tuesdays. I'm fairly confident that the reasons that led her to write a line like that no longer apply, and I'd be overstating the case to claim that I, now, live for Tuesdays either. But in terms of the pivot-point around which my weeks and my neuroses revolve....yep, that's definitely Tuesday.

Sigh...
No panic...honest.