Both Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits and I have been ill with a glandular fever-esque virus for a few days. It sucked. We got snarky, over-dosed on Season 4 of The Good Wife and I slept more than I have so far this year.
I attempted to go to work on Monday – I managed a little over two hours in situ, but with my tolerance levels at an all time low I thought that I should leave before I started on a squeakily terrifying laryngitis riddled tirade of abuse that was bubbling up inside me. I made it home, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits saw my sweaty little face and attempted to cheer me up by liberating the shoes I bought in London. They were were hostages for over a week and he wanted some thanks. I think not !
I made it in today, called a few clients, dealt with an alarming amount of emails and boxed up and returned some little parcels of loveliness that weren’t quite right. I’ve come home, tackled the ironing, done the dishes, made some calls, and done some jobs for Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits for his early start tomorrow. In short, I’ve achieved more in the last 14 hours than I have over the last 5 days.
It’s good to have a bit of a spring back in my step, and I’m feeling a lot more like my old self.
Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits actually had the weekend off – this is virtually unheard of. And very very welcome. We were knackered for want of a better word. And so we started Saturday off slowly, watched an episode or two of The Good Wife, he went off and worked out, I did a spot of Winter Olympics watching, then we settled down early and watched a documentary before bingeing on a few more episodes of the afore mentioned The Good Wife. All in all, my kind of Saturday.
Today has been much more productive which is a good thing, otherwise I would have achieved nada/zero/zilch all weekend. And you only need so much rest if truth be told. Sunday didn’t start well, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits got called early for a job which meant that he had to leave immediately – he was in the process of fighting his way into winter waterproof layers when he was called again saying that the job had gone away. Hooray! That meant he could come back to bed for another slow start – and that’s not a euphemism for anything else!
Breakfast and coffee quaffing was partaken with, you guessed it, another episode of The Good Wife before we were ready to face the grad master plan for today. I had a number of things I needed to achieve – a lower body workout, a cardio session, day 9 of the planking challenge (a 60 second muscle-quivering grit your teeth and bear it exercise), and a rather large pile of ironing. It was the worst kind of ironing – formal shirts and trousers, ruffled blouses – eeeeuurgh. With Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits around to help pile on the weights for squats and calf raises, it was a tough but fun workout. I warmed up with the plank, so I really feel as though I’ve worked off those late night Rich Tea biscuits today.
So here I am post-workout, desperately in need of a shower and with only one more item on my list of things to achieve today – call my parents to see how they’re doing. Well that, and decide whether it’s feasible to attempt the 30 day plank challenge and the 30 day squat challenge in quick succession or even simultaneously. Operation Bikini Bod is in full swing – that bikini bod will be mine, or I’ll die trying.
My significant other, herewith Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits, has been away adventuring for nearly 2 weeks and he’s due home tomorrow – hooray. I can’t wait to see him, but I do have a lot to do before he gets back. He likes tidiness, order and serenity – I’m on the chaotic side of the organised spectrum.
In short, stuff needs doing.
The cupboards are bare, the ironing pile is taller than I am, and socks to do not pair themselves. But it’s fine, I have a plan – and if the plan fails, I have gin.
Tidy away jewellery (currently abandoned on kitchen worktop)
Start ironing tonight
Drink gin (as a reward)
Another bout of ironing
Go to supermarket
On his arrival, I can then squeal with excitement and give him a huge hug whilst simultaneously emitting an air of nonchalance.
This is a good plan in theory. I hope I complete the tasks in order, I have been known to head straight to gin o’ clock. Then all I have is a sheepish smile and some devilish dimples.