Torn Tortured Tendons
Mood:

Topic: Belle de Jour

Every single muscle in my body is screaming. I've had eight days off work, my job's pretty active anyway (there's no desk sitting, so you're moving all day), and added to this was the utter lunacy that made me decide to run to work early yesterday(complete with weighted backpack).
Hold up, let me say that again - after being completely horizontal all day for two weeks, I decided to run to work.
How transparent is the stupid that is this decision?
Easy peasy stupid, mega dunderhead stupid, or should I just lay down in the A road and let the Darwin effect take its course now?
I made it in 25 minutes, and was impressed with my speed, with the fact it only took me two minutes to cool off after, with the fact that despite not stretching at either end, my legs felt fine.
Till I tried to walk up the hill home again.
I ended up lain on the living room floor, whimpering every time I tried to crack the rigor mortis setting into my limbs in order to reach for a packet of crisps (super fit runner's food, doncha know?), and staggering clumsily to bed at seven. Where my tendons performed a tarantella rictus on me for the next seven hours.
Three in the morning, and, oh yeah, now I'm stretching. Now I'm desperately yanking the kinks out of my stiff leaden legs by hurting them as much as I can stand. I forgot to feed the cats, so there's scratches and no sympathy there.
Aww, cummon, don't you pity me a little bit?
It's not easy being this retarded.
Turn Off TV Week ~ I'm spending a week living an imaginary life as a couch potato, to see if it's any more fulfilling.
Daily Selection: I might have watched ~
1. 8pm, C4, Relocation, Relocation ~ Kirstie and Phil help a couple up sticks from London's Elephant and Castle to the Wiltshire countryside, while still maintaining a small flat in the city. This is almost the reverse of my migration, fourteen years ago, into London. (And I have ended up stuck in a second home small flat in the city.) Should be interesting to see how they deal with the complete and utter lack of any cultural life or diversity in Wiltshire, however pretty the rolling Downs are. Property buying is almost a mania in London, and property buying reality tv is double that if you own a property that's risen in value by 200% in the last few years (not that I can sell the damn thing). Duch regularly telephones me with commands to switch on the teev of a Friday morning and give my opinion of the property relocation prices in Tennessee to her. It's not nice, but it's widespread.Verdict: That is one fucking huge waste of hours of your life. If you want to watch this stuff, might I suggest that simultaneously beating your head against a kitchen knife would rid the world of a moron, Vanessa?
2. 9pm, BBC1, May 33rd ~ Lia Williams stars as a woman with multiple personality disorder, who tries to escape her abusive past in a hard hitting depressing drama special, continue after the news at ten. This sounds dreadful, really dreadful, but believe me, there's sod all else on, apart from prison dramas and reality tv. You never see men in tv biopics of people with multiple personalities, do you? Way to give yourself nightmares.
3. 11pm, C4, Frasier ~ News of Sam and Luka's romance doesn't go down well with Alex. Repeat. I haven't watched Frasier in so long that I don't recognise a single one of those names, but any port in a storm - Frasier at least is always well scripted, with great timing, and it would make me feel less like death (particularly running on from the proggy above) than watching the bloody appalling Sex and the City repeats.
Updated: Wednesday, 21 April 2004 6:16 PM BST
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