The Inelastic Button

OK, well this week has really not gone according to plan. I've been OK...ish on the eating, but the exercise I planned to have time to do this week has pretty much been eaten alive, working on editing projects and the day job.

Which makes the inelastic button depressing but understandable.
The inelastic button? Hmm...the one that holds my jeans together at the moment. On Tuesday it had no particular problem performing the single, generally undemanding duty I required of it. Since yesterday though, it's pretty much turned into a wheezing, fortysomething corporal in a forgotten regient somewhere - fulls of aches and grumbles and dark mutterings about how it doesn't get padi enough to put up with the things it has to.

It's been straining somewhat - because of course, it's inelastic. That doesn't bode well for Tuesday, but we'll have to let Tuesday take care of itself to some extent I'm afraid. Gonna buy a week's train ticket to Cardiff on Monday morning, I think - there's insano-building work going on directly opposite out place, and it's like geographical dentistry. The good thing about this of course is that it's likely to be a rather calorifically lighter week if I spend most of my time (and yes, probably, most of my pay cheque) in Starbucks.

Is this a sensible plan, I hear you scoff.
Fuck sensible, it's coffee, goddammit, I hear me reply, getting my wuss-ass de-caff Jones on...

The inelastic button is looking at me now in soft disgust.
"Dude," it's saying, "we used to be friends. What the hell happened?"

Great, now I have button-guilt. Sigh - less food, more metabolic snacking, more exercise; that was how we became friends, o button on a smaller pair of jeans than I once ever dreamed of cramming my legs into again. You want me to try again and come back to you?

"Y...yes please...I'm dyin' here..."

Sigh...Fine...
FINE! Something...something will be done, now get off my case, inelastic button, I'v barely moved from this computer since 6.30 this morning and I want to try and guess what my wife looks like...