It took me some time to adapt back to real life after having had such a ball in NYC and then hitting the road to follow a band. The most notable habit that I picked up in NYC was touching everything with the back of my hand before gripping as the shark and TH have a problem with static in their apartment. Virtually everything gives off a pretty hefty poke of electricity. It’s a routine that paid dividends in the hotels that I subsequently stayed in but I think that I can stop it now. I’ve also returned to my basic, boring, monotonous diet and hence have rediscovered my ribs and waist and I feel confident of a Dave Gahan body by June. Thanks to a jogging route suggested by TH in NYC and the new sign in Brockwell Park giving the distance of the parameter as a measly 2 miles (pah!), I now jog around it twice, with aims of getting higher soon. It’s an absolute pleasure to run at the moment as spring has hit our shores with gusto. But as always, it’s scattered. While I am basking in the sun’s rays, a game of football has been abandoned in Sunderland due to heavy snow and a frosty night with snow has been forecast in Northeast Scotland.
It’s my first Saturday in absolute yonks where I’ve had absolutely nothing to do all day and knowing that I can get stuck into some DIY next weekend, I’m a couch potato today and relishing my football. As usual Mourinho has come up trumps “For me, pressure is bird flu; I am feeling a lot of pressure with the swan in Scotland," revealed Mourinho when asked about the Manchester United manager's attempts to turn the psychological screws on Stamford Bridge.” I managed to summons some energy to switch channels for the Grand National but lost my ante when my horse dragged itself home.
RIP Jane xxx
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