Karate on Thursday was good despite the attitude with which I went into it. I was feeling tired and miserable and not up to doing anything, but when I arrived sensei was still teaching the previous student, so I got dragged into going through the last bits of the brown-belt kata. It was the last thing I wanted -- something I couldn't possibly be expected to do well -- but I think it did me a lot of good. By the time my proper lesson started I was just about starting to feel like I could actually put some effort into things.
Looks like the Carlton Arms is going to become our default pub for Thursday night pubmeets. I certainly have no objection to that -- it's one of the few pubs where I can actually feel comfortable not drinking alcohol. (This isn't because I'm unable to cope without booze, but because pubs rarely sell any drinks that I like, so I usually end up drinking things I don't really enjoy, and feeling like it's a waste of money, and resenting whatever it is that's prompting me to avoid alcohol.) The Carlton does a good range of coffee, hot chocolate, mocha, etc., and also has Britvic orange juice on tap -- and at reasonable prices rather than the outrageous markup that most pubs have on soft drinks. [thinks: <drink type=soft></drink>]
It was kind of strange half-unexpectedly meeting up with
Can't remember anything that happened on Friday. If you think you happened on Friday and you're offended that I forgot you, please excuse my frazzled sieve-like brain.
Apart from a quick trip to Witchford to pick up a moggy hubcap from Iain Allen, most of the rest of Saturday got eaten by kitchen designers. It was quite entertaining getting to choose all the little bits of kitchen like doorhandles and sink and taps, but it started getting a bit tiring after 2 hours of this. The kitchen is going to be horrendously expensive, but should be Very Shiny Indeed.
Finally met up with
Sunday was mostly characterised by Extreme Tiredness. Spent most of the morning flopping around in a half-awake daze, and to be honest was quite glad to go back to bed for a while once
Probably largely a result of tiredness but I was feeling utterly awful by the evening, despite having spent a couple of happy hours car-waxing; you know you're in a fragile mental state when The Simpsons makes you feel depressed. (It's the episode where Homer is unemployed and miserable and tries to kill himself, but gets a new sense of purpose when he decides to start a campaign to get a stop sign added to a dangerous junction. My first thought was "I don't even have a goal like that to work towards." I stopped watching at that point.) Ended up having a pointless row with
Mondays are normally d00m, but I had the most efficient lunch-hour ever, managing to: phone Bob to get him to come and fix our boiler; phone a roofing company to see if they can fix our guttering and our slates; phone financial advisors to get change-of-address sorted out (only just over a year late); phone insurance credit people to get my name spelt right; phone 24/7 to ask why the fuck they haven't removed our spare electricity supply yet (they're only just over a year late); and pay an outstanding book club bill.
Meeting From Hell this afternoon wasn't actually too hellish, and (best of all) I'm on the bike today (trying to get fitter again and stop being so lazy) so I can actually leave when I want to. Which will be in about 20 minutes' time, as I got in on time today.
I feel like I'm almost turning over a new leaf in some ways. Maybe it won't just turn out to be the old leaf, with all rotting bits of leaf mould underneath, this time.
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Update: I remembered what happened on Friday -- I tried to do line-dancing in 7-inch platforms. And succeeded, or at least managed to avoid breaking my ankles! All in the name of charidee, of course.