L asks if I’m basking in all the post-race glory this morning. Well, kind of, but most of my colleagues at work still want to talk about Crufts and I have to run through ‘Doggo’s performance’ again for all those who weren’t in on Friday. Note the words ‘Doggo’s performance’. They're all so full of praise for him... No honestly, it’s ok. It’s not as if he did it on his own or anything and he didn’t run sixteen miles yesterday, but I didn’t expect any credit.
My colleague, who decided he wasn’t fit enough to do the race, couldn’t go anywhere yesterday because of the road closures. Ha. Serves him right.
The Kilomathon organisers have the nerve to email me, after ignoring me yesterday by not texting me. It’s not with a nice well done, like they did with L, but with an online questionnaire. Which of course I dutifully fill in.
I get the bus home and then wait for L to return from the dentist with the car, so that I can go dog training. Apparently she had to extract Son from the pub to get him there. The pub! At 4pm! Whatever next! I’ve no idea where he gets that from.
On the drive to training I try and start the new audio book that L has got for me. It’s another John Grisham. I’m about due one of his and it’ll be good to get back to something reliable like that, after some not so great reads recently. Unfortunately I don’t get very far because there’s no disk one. That’s council libraries for you. You would have thought they’d check the CDs before the let them out. I was looking forward to a bit of JG as well but would just be lost without disk one.
L is cooking roast chicken tonight, which sounds great. I know she’ll be saving some for the dogs, for after their training. Hopefully, she’ll save me some too.
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