Perfect Sense

It's very foggy and damp this morning, though I don’t think it was actually raining but my jacket was soaked with Notts/Derby mist when I finally reached work through the gloom on the bike. After which I eat breakfast at my desk.

L confesses that she had breakfast at home today. She can’t do that. That’s just plain weird.

There was this bit of a nonsense story on the BBC website the other day.

The woman objects to folk like me having breakfast at work, as she sits reading the papers... and it appears he'd even got in early to eat it before official work start time.

It makes no sense to eat cereal at work... unless you’re one of the growing band of people who run, walk or cycle to work or go to the gym or swim before work, then it makes perfect sense.

L has a cunning plan of a romantic meal of chicken chow mein tonight, followed by perhaps liquid dessert in the Plough. Sounds good to me. It also appears to be a strategy to keep her off the Leffe in readiness for tomorrow's plan, which is a blow out in Burton... Hmmm. Last time we went to Burton we end up being practically AF because the beer was too strong.

Apparently I am allowed a whippet for Christmas. I’d be allowed to train with it and it would even be allowed to sleep on our bed. L says she would get a little jacket to keep it warm and a sparkly lead.

Wasn’t quite what I had in mind but I’ll let her know.

(Friday 19th November)

What Was The Point Of That?

I’m on the bike this morning and as the mornings are now so much lighter, I can now start taking my preferred route again. This is the hillier route, which might be useful as some training for the Cat. Well I hope it's going to be useful, I don't have much time to do much more.

It’s also a very pleasant morning. I didn’t even wear a jacket this morning. It’s almost shorts weather.

Have a few problems as usual. I’m cycling down to the lights in Spondon, doing around 25mph, the same as the queuing cars. I’m a few feet away from the curb, to keep my place in the queue, as I'm going to turn right. Most drivers understand this but today a car is desperately trying to overtake me, to gain a metre or so on the road. Well there's no room, I'm practically on the bumper of the car in front but he's going to do it anyway and push me out of the way. I hit the brakes and slow up to let him in. What was the point of that? Then the **** turns left across the front of me. Cheers.

In the evening its squash and I get carried away. I launch myself into the match from game one. Discarding my cunningly thought out plan that had worked well for the last few weeks. The tactic is supposed to be to wear my opponent down gradually, and not tire myself out, before I take a game off him. With that plan in tatters we have some fantastically close games but I don’t win any of them and get a blow to the head from my opponent’s racquet into the bargain.

No chance of any sympathy at home, L’s gone to the cinema. She said I wouldn’t be interested because it’s a romance and it’s Jennifer Anniston, she’s forgetting that I’ve seen ‘Marley’. Anyhow the Jennifer thing was just a red herring. Apparently Gerard is the reason she’s going, which doesn’t mean much to me...



Hmmmmm.

Just in case the inspiration is half as good as last night’s Sophie effect, I’ll make sure I’m free later.