Friday and I wake full of dreams or the backwash of them more accurately. I get up and go through my usual rising ritual of making the bed, drawing curtains and sniffing the world to see how it is. I do something that I do not usually do, I weigh myself. My rule is that I only weigh myself once a week on Sunday but today I break my rule in the hope that I get some motivation to train today and to keep going with the diet (I do miss sweets and chocolate. My partner gave me 4 chocolate buttons in a dish this week as a treat/thank you, but I only smelt them and then fed them to my eldest daughter). I look down at the display and find I have dipped under 97 kilos; it is enough of a downward trend to give me hope. Breakfast follows as does clearing the kitchen and then I am off to the Shed to reacquaint myself with pen and ink, it’s been several days now since I wrote a letter. My Christmas cards have arrived so I shall soon be sending those at the crack of December.

I do not make it to the Shed, Amazon delivers and then the post office and then another carrier. There is squirreling to be done. There is also some Christmas shopping to be done as lists become available. I manage to be busy till lunchtime when my partner and I sit down to a dish of soup and more fresh coffee. My partner goes off with her brother to their mothers, and I set about my washing, feeding the squirrels, replenishing Fort Hog with food and then getting some life and death admin done. By the time I have hung my washing out and completed my admin tasks I am feeling tired but need to train. I get myself ready and get to the garage and set the rower up for a standard level half hour. I feel knackered before I start but grind on in a sort of daze. It turns out okay, I managed 6000+ metres and 400+ calories so it was worth it.

I record my session and catch up with the blog. I notice I have missed calls from friends today. I guess I have been preoccupied with admin and jobs and for once not carried my phone around with me. It irks me that have missed the opportunity to talk. The evening is dark and, on this night, there are difficult decisions to make. Its Pudsy night on television, its either watch entertainment punctuated by miseryverts or Warrior Nun. If I am lucky there might be a rugby match to view. So I meander into my Friday night with no great hopes of joy. Unless of course I send the evening trying to get the printer to work. It ceased to function because HP ink had not been paid for the ink. So I spent time changing the payment method but by then the printer had cut itself off so now I have to get it back online, which means firing up the big system and buggering about for ages. The reward for doing this will be that I can run off all the poems for tomorrow’s poetry stanza meeting. I’m vaguely interested in what they make of mine. Some of the other members poems are really imaginative and creative, some are not my cup of tea, so I expect tomorrow’s meeting to be more stimulating than Pudsy.