Busy week - sorry, first chance to write in a while. 2 days at the hospital followed by 2 days applying bandages to a rapidly worsening project at Wickes offices. Looking forward to the weekend.
Actually, it's at times like this, when last weekend seems like only moments ago that I realise how quickly time is passing by. Gone are my plans to run 2 or 3 times a week, building up to the big event. My last run was on Saturday morning and I can still feel the soreness in my calf muscle and also in my left knee. This is slightly worrying - I guess with my advancing years I no longer possess the gift of 'bouncebackability' as defined by Sir Alex and all exertions (including alcoholic ones) now require a much longer recovery time.
I now have 5 sponsors (thank you all) who I can only assume are cash rich sadists who get-off at the sight of purple faced middle aged men suffering near death experiences. This last comment has nothing to do with bedroom antics/ plastic bags I hasten to add.
Watched some real car-crash TV last night with Mrs C. First we were treated to the delights of Katie Price's private world where we saw the minger-queen leave the jungle, dump her boyfriend, boss photographers around, patch up with her boyfriend, blag some frocks, generally bemoan her entire lot with the orange skinned hangers-on sucking up to her at every opportunity. Oh and she even managed to say hello to her kids at one point too. Interesting how she was one minute dumping her boyfriend for speaking to the press when it was only 'her they were interested in', then she was planning to marry him as soon as he won Big Brother (and was arguably more interesting to the press than she).
Next up was a completely dragged-out-to-fill-an-hour shocker about how Cheryl Cole has changed her looks over the last 10 minutes or so, complete with 'coming-up' teasers and recaps each side of the adverts. Obvious comparisons were made with the Beckhams etc. Today, I'm delighted to see another 'Shock' story about hubby Ashley's nude pics.
The lives/ habits/ thoughts of so-called celebrities often leave me reaching for the sick bowl. It is no wonder that our kids have no desirable role models as there is no prospect of any well-intentioned, good-hearted, selfless person ever getting a look in to our celebrity obsessed media.
Any way must go. Having my BSC waxed then I'm off to open a supermarket.