missed opportunity or close shave?

Buggery bollox.

She who hesitates comes home with only her shopping.
Slight improvement on she who forgets everything comes home without her shopping.

I spotted an old friend from school in the supermarket today. Couldn't believe it. It's been nearly two decades. And I live miles from where we went to school. Small world or what? Weird thing is I thought I saw her before Christmas but dismissed the idea and walked on by (yeh thanks Dionne).

So what did I do this time? Go up to her and say hello?

No.

I kept walking in the opposite direction chanting 'Noooo! It can't be! Was it? It was. Should I go and say hi? What will I say? Unreal!'

To calm myself, I carried on shopping - works every time. And then I finally made my mind up. Of course I should go and say hi. Why not? What harm could it do? So 18 years have passed. We were great friends. OK, so we had a bit of a flingette in our teenage years - so what?

So I bit the bullet, dashed the goats cheese back on the shelf and u-turned my trolley.

Could I find her? Could I buggery! Vanished. Disappeared.

Maybe she had seen and recognised me. Maybe she'd clocked my short hair and just 'knew' what a big lezza I'd grown into and legged it. Assumption, I know. But then I saw her baby and knew she was riding the hettie bandwaggon again. Ach, but so what? I was only gonna say hello. What does all the rest matter?

Pants.

I'm annoyed that I'm now left thinking 'We could've swapped numbers, caught up on riotous old times, renewed the friendship. Coulda, coulda.'

Didn't.

And now we'll never know.

Arse.

PS. Have dashed the CPR, CPS, CR*P spotting business. I'd really like to continue, but well, I can't be ar*ed.

signs

Do you look for signs? Pre or post event?
I'm a fad queen so I do both. Or neither.

Spent some time last night browsing blogs, seeing what others blog about. Came across the phenomena that is CNPS. Crazy people. Why would ya?

So walking back to our house this morning I see numbers 01 to 06 in the space of 200 yards. Unbelievable. It's a sign. Perhaps I should continue CNPSing? Depends if I see a 7 next time I'm out ...

I really shouldn't have seen those 6 plates this morning. I wasn't meant to be in that street. I'd gone out for a run. A spontaneous, sneaky run. My first run for 5 weeks following a calf injury. Not my calf I hasten to add, but being half of a couply couple I've not run since said injury to avoid seeing Lah's bottom lip quiver in a 'I'm missing out' moment. Great excuse innit?

I started running in April, after 25 years of avoiding such evil activity. I've always been one of those 'Running?! Prrrpffph.' type folk, scorning the very thought. Don't get me wrong, I love sport. But running isn't sport. It's a lorra effort to get hot and sweaty and there are far better ways of getting there.


But I've been watching my body change shape these past few years. Seems a diet of junk food, chocolate, fags and alcohol no longer allows me to stay slim. Middle aged spread is creeping all over me sneering 'I Can't Believe You're Not Fatter'. My belly and thighs now wobbly and protrude far more than I'd like and vanity dictates that my happiness will subside if this continues. Can't fight the ageing process - but I can avoid the 'morphing into mother' misery for a little while longer.

So I gave up junk food and fags. Got my taste buds back and ate everything in sight. Hmm. Refused to give up the chocolate and alcohol so Lah suggested I join her on some gentle jogs - see how I fared.

Eyeing up her slim (DNA induced) build I foolishly relented. And yet y'know, it isn't all that bad. We're taking it slowly, only doing a few miles at a time, and I'm enjoying it. ... No. Not enjoying it. Enjoying the feeling when it's all over and by 7.30am too. My figure IS coming back AND I get to scoff myself silly for the rest of the day smug in the knowledge that my work is done. Motivation or what?!

But then the injury happened. Fine - it's been a busy time at work anyway - and my knee was hurting a bit - so we could let it slide for a bit. But today I thought I'd sneak out for a mini amble just to see how it felt. Lah and I plan to start our regime again on Monday so I was just 'warming up'.

Oh dear. Running on my own isn't so great. And later in the day there are people and cars about. So I found myself running faster than I would with Lah (the sensible pacesetter one) trying not to look too weedy. Mistake. Even the pair of drunks on the bench offered encouragement. Suddenly it was all too much. Three minutes in and I stopped. Gasping for air. Erm, perhaps I'll just go for a brisk walk instead. Fad queen.

And so that's how I ended up on that street. Had to take the circular route home so I wouldn't pass any of the houses I initially jogged past incase the neighbours were watching and spotted that I was walking back a whole 15 minutes later. And that's where I spotted plates 01 to 06. It's a sign I tell ya. Quit running. Do something even more pointless.

And then there's another sign on my office wall : 'DO SOME WORK YOU LAZY F*CKER'

Oh but before I do ... have you seen this? The BEST exercise video ever. If anyone's got half a dozen machines knocking about, we can give it a go ...

scratch the itch

How did I get here? Me no know. But it's worth a ride. And baby you can sleep while I drive. Hmm. Bet that idea's original.
Maybe I should think some more before I let those fingers do the walking. Marketer's dream, me.
Except when it comes to Barry Scott and his blessed Clitit Bang.
Tosser.