A Post Regarding the Lack of Post…

My apologies to anyone who’s been waiting with bated breath for an update this week; it seems that there just aren’t enough hours left in the day for everything anymore. Now that the sun’s come out, I have been charged with taming the jungle we laughingly call a garden before we get sued for lowering the local property prices. This is on top of my paid job, my long-delayed dissertation, my efforts to find a job that will pay me enough to live on, and the many domestic chores that keep me and Igor from completely wallowing in our own filth. My writing has taken something of a back seat recently, as you can probably imagine. It really hasn’t helped that I’ve been ill this week with a head cold and my body’s response to this has been to demand as much sleep as I can possibly muster. I’d push myself harder, but that’s always proved to be a waste of effort in my case. I prefer to take a few days off and rest up, knowing I can get more done in the long term by recovering quicker. This isn’t a fashionable attitude in the modern, work-driven world, but the modern, work-driven world can fuck off as far as I’m concerned.

My ambition for the past couple of years has simply been to set up a life in which I can be happy. Not too much to ask, you would think, but it seems I’m one of those people who always seems to have too much on their plate, a lot of problems and no energy. So I thought I’d try to tackle some of these obstacles. This week, I have started exercising again. I’ve put a good three inches on my waist since moving to Brum and my lifestyle, composed as it is around beer, Dungeons & Dragons and selling cinema tickets, needs a kick up the backside if I want to lose some circumference. In theory, the act of exercising for half an hour or so of a night should make me feel more energetic generally. At worst, it gives me further impetus to make sure I do the neck exercises that the physiotherapist hopes will make my whiplash go away. Anyway, there I was the other night, all stretched and warmed up and ready to go and I started to do the press-ups I used to last time I went through an exercising phase. I do sit-ups and press-ups in pyramids: I do as many press-ups as I can, rest by doing as many sit-ups as I can then repeat the cycle, doing fewer of each as my body gives out. The other night, my press-up count was fourteen. Fourteen! I mean, come on! I think on a physical level we can safely say I’ve tumbled across the line into pathetic. Time will tell whether this revelation will drive me forward or have me reaching for the bottle…

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~ by Scary Rob on 3 August, 2007.

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