A Blah Blog Post

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Just hanging out…doing a little bit of this, a little bit of that…  

Actually, quite a bit of this (writing) and a fair amount of that (the social thing).  

I could write about what’s new in my life but don’t seem to be able to come up with any interesting or amusing twist to any of it.  Or I could write about what’s old but instead, just used a photo.  (“Beth on the Rocks.”)  Life is good – I just happen to be at a (temporary?) loss as to writing about/sharing it.

So why am I writing this non-event, non-newsy post?  Because I’m leaving for the cottage Thursday for five days and I don’t blog while there.  Even for me (who only manages to blog about once a week) that would be quite a stretch of time since my last blog post.  And some of you (bless you) might wonder what’s become of me.  Or not.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”  “Out of sight, out of mind.”  

Take your pick.  ;)

Slippery Slope

A number of people – myself included – thought I’d move when the divorce was final.  However, for various reasons I’ve decided not to move anytime soon.  Thus, I’m finally dealing with all the repair jobs that need to be done.  And not by me.  Nor by my not-so-handy-sons.  Bless them, they have tried. 

I phoned a repairman.  Excerpt from our conversation:

RPM: “I’m busy for the next week or so but…

Me: (interrupting) “That’s fine, it’s okay – I’ve lived with most of these problems for almost five years – another few weeks won’t matter.”

RPM: (laughs) “Five years?  You’re kidding!”

Me: “Nope – I’m serious.  I’ve been dealing with the big ticket repairs – roof, furnace…that kind of stuff.”

RPM: “How many little jobs do you have?”

Me: “Enough to keep you busy for a week – at least.  Maybe longer.”

RPM: “Is there anything that qualifies as an emergency?”

Me: “Not that I’m aware of - but you shouldn’t even put that sort of idea in my head.”

It was left that I’d email him a list of repairs, call again in two weeks and hope the house remains standing during that time.

I made the list.  I was both astonished and disconcerted as to its length.  Worse yet, there are things not even on it – i.e. the driveway needs re-paving.

Does anyone else have a home repair list that could match this one?  Am I guilty of horrendous neglect?  Should I just open my doors to a dozen or so cats and be done with it? 

Or maybe I should move…

THE LIST - click on it to enlarge.

(why is it so faint?)

And, yes my printer needs repairing, too.  Some pages come out on a slant – others are fine.  Why is that?  And why does my scanner scan some pages with big letters and others with small ones?  Oh, to be handy and technically inclined…

photo credit: Google images

Time and Time Again...

“So busy, time filled or put in, time in which to do things or time by which to have things done, time for home-comings and different little tasks and leavings, time for coffee or for waking up, time passing, time running out, time gone.”

~Joan Barfoot – Dancing in the Dark


Of course I cannot stop time from passing so quickly, from running out.

But I can make myself pause.

I should - and I will.

When I have a moment.

In the meantime, I shall finish my coffee and proceed with my “little tasks” of the day – which includes stuffing two loads worth of dirty laundry into green garbage bags and heading for the laundromat because my friggin’ not yet two year old washing machine conked out last Saturday.

Sitting in a laundromat. Now, there’s a great way to kill time.

I’m taking a book. For sure.


Photo credit: http://www.imagecyte.com/images3d/hourglass.jpg

Always Thinking...

…although not always brilliantly.


Thoughts while emptying the dryer:

Why do t-shirts come out of the dryer inside-out when they went in the dryer right-side-out? (Or outside-out?)

And why do we use the expression “inside-out” rather than “outside-in”?

Followed by an attempt to turn these lofty thoughts into a metaphor for life:

Just when life seems to be in perfect alignment, going well & a perfect fit (although perhaps slightly damp), things are suddenly tossed about and it ends up topsy-turvy, upside-down and the fit seems a little off. And then you must grab life (or the t-shirt) and make things right again – turn them right-side-out – as best you can.

This from a woman who once wore a t-shirt inside-out in public which could also be a metaphor for life - my life – but I’m not going there…

The Latest...Trivia

I’m about ½ way through Dan Brown’s new book The Lost Symbol – another fast-paced thriller. I’m already exhausted. Is all the action going to take place within a span of 24 hours as it did in The Da Vinci Code? This sort of literary device distracts this particular reader from the story. I’m forever wondering – “Aren’t these people tired?” I certainly couldn’t keep up that pace. As if my services would ever be required on such missions…
Prediction – Washington D.C. will be inundated with tourists who have read the book.
(Don’t care if Brown’s books are panned by literary critics – they’re a fun read.)

Finished writing a short story but have changed the ending three times and I’m still not happy with it. This is what happens when you write for a target audience rather than simply for the sheer pleasure of writing.

Totally ripped a side seam in my very favourite nightie. So sad. Must have had a rough night. A bad dream? Of course, the fact this nightie was about 8 years old and had achieved perfect softness and texture undoubtedly contributed to its demise.

On Wednesday night, as well as discussing this month’s book (The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill) the ladies in my book club brought up the subject of Daylight Savings Time which takes place November 1st. I believe the expression is “fall back” but if I’m going to fall, I’m more likely to fall forward so I get confused as to which way to adjust the clocks. I watch for instructions in the newspaper.

The utmost in trivia (yes, more trivial than the nightie saga). My glutes are killing me. So much so, it’s difficult to even sit. A new exercise was introduced in my pool class with the warning – “Take it easy, you’ll feel this tomorrow.” I did not heed the warning because the exercise was so easy to do and oh, lordy, I am feeling it now. I had no idea the muscles in my butt were so out of shape. The killer? Only further exercise will reduce the pain. Ouch.

And that’s it as to some of the most exciting events in the last three days of my life. Aren’t you glad I shared?

Enjoy the weekend.

Achoo...

Signs You’re Getting A Cold But You Haven’t Clued In Yet…

1) You think the milk has gone bad.

2) The lingering odour of the dinner you made (which was actually quite good) makes you feel queasy.

3) You attempt some jaw cracking yawns in order to pop the pressure in your left ear while wondering – “Gee, wonder what the heck caused this?”

4) You chock up the momentary spells of dizziness and fuzzy vision to simply being tired.

Hello, Beth!! Anybody home??

Four out of the five body senses – taste, smell, hearing, sight - were alerting me to the impending arrival of a wicked cold and I remained oblivious to the early warning signals. Oh, and another clue? My youngest has been sniffling and hacking around here for the past little while.

The wretched respiratory virus (beyond a normal cold) eventually arrived in full force - accompanied by a sledgehammer. This hefty tool accounted for the late but cannot-be-missed presence of the fifth body sense – touch. Aches and pains to the touch - or without a touch. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

So, if you’ve noted my brief absence, know that I have been preoccupied lately what with not doing very much of anything at all except finally listening to, respecting and obeying the demands of my body. Her orders were to stay huddled under the duvet and emerge only for sustenance. Such a bossy lady.

I’m now detecting faint whisperings as to recovery being just around the corner.

I’m listening - I hear you! Just let me know where that particular corner would be - and I’m there…


P.S. I hesitated to write another post about my ailments (the foot, the cold…) but stuck with the maxim “Write what you know.” I’m knowing a wee bit of misery these days.


photo credit: http://store.nrm.org/browse.cfm/4,1884.html?AFF=GoogleBase

Private Message/Public Forum

Found in my email this morning - and not in the Junk Folder.
My response follows.


HELLO QUEEN ELIZABETH-ANY CHANCE I COULD BE YOUR PERSONAL MUSE OR CABANA BOY?
Saturday, April 11, 2009 1:33 AM
From: "Neil_______ @aol.com" <_______>

To: estewart@rogers.com

Hello Miss Elizabeth I read your blog and I see you are looking for your own little personal muse or Cabana Boy!
I would LOVE to SERVE you if you are interested.
Here are my contacts if you so desire:

W W W . M Y S P A C E . C O M /Neil_______

MY YAHOO INSTANT MESSANGER IS:_______

MY CEL PHONE IS:________

AND MY DIRECT E-MAIL ADDRESS IS: ________ AT A O L . C O M

-NEIL OR KNEEL AT YOUR PERFECTLY PEDICURED PALE WHITE WHITE WHITE FEET ALWAYS-!!!


Dear Neil,

I so do not have such a desire…for a variety of reasons.

I have no need for a Cabana Boy – don’t own a pool and have no plans to go south any time soon.

I don’t think the “musing” you’re referring to would aid me in my writing endeavours.

I’m not too keen on your play on words – Neil/Kneel. And FYI, I haven’t had a pedicure in months.

Referring to me as a Queen will get you nowhere. I’m not the princess-ey/queen type. The only thing I’d want served is my dinner.

You don’t use spell check.

But the greatest reason for my lack of interest? YOU SPELT MY NAME WRONG – IT’S ELISABETH WITH AN “S” – NOT A “Z”!!!

Regards,
Elisabeth

P.S. Thanks for reading my blog – although I believe your interpretation is way off…



You’ll notice I left out the pertinent details regarding Neil’s contact information. If anyone is looking for a Cabana Boy or their “own little personal muse” let me know. I’ll pass along the information.

And, yes, I regret opening this message. Neil better not be passing along a virus…

For Shame??

All the comments/guesses left on my last post were intriguing, amusing and certainly gave me pause - particularly regarding point # 5 - OWNING ONE DRESS.

Yes, folks, amazingly enough, this is TRUE. And while that previous post was entitled “Inanity, ” the title of this one should be “Anomaly” because I’m feeling a bit like one. While I thought mentioning only having one dress might prove interesting, I never thought it would end up being considered the biggest (shocking) lie.

I’m torn between considering myself an oddity or viewing my wardrobe lapse in a more positive light – that it makes me unique and special. Oddball is currently winning out.

The dress I own is a LBD - à la Coco Chanel’s advice. As in, every woman should own a Little Black Dress. I’m thinking I took her advice to the extreme, that she didn’t mean only owning a LBD.

For those eye rollers out there, take heart: a) I used to own more dresses b) I have some very nice skirts and c) I must buy another dress for a July wedding. Not looking forward to that challenge. Again, this makes me weird. Let’s face it. I’m not a girly-girl. So be it.

On to the other points.

#1 – True. I have never eaten a hash brownie but this is on my list of things to do before I die.

#2 – False. My singing voice is terrible but I don’t care. I will sing to my heart’s content.

#3 – True. I have ridden a galloping horse across a field. I was terrified, thought for sure I was going to die but once I learned to trust the horse (who was definitely in control) I loved the experience.

#4 – False. I have never been stuck in an elevator but it is one of my big fears. I just know the urge to go would strike immediately. I wonder how long I would last before I actually…oh, never mind…

#5 – True. Meh. (See above.)

#6 – True. I patted the ear of an elephant while taking part in a “Bathe the Elephants” outing. I love elephants! (Does this make me even weirder when added to the one dress fact?)

#7 – True. I will pick the peas out of any dish in which they appear and will not eat them when served on their own. I hate peas. (A waitress once noted my pile of uneaten peas and told me I should finish them. I don’t think so, sweetheart. Even my mother couldn’t get me to eat them.)

#8 – True. I most certainly did yell at a police officer. In fact, there was more than one officer in the police station who felt (heard) my wrath. I don’t think they issue tickets or make arrests when dealing with feisty, protective mothers who are RIGHT.


So, there you have it. My two lies and my six truths – one of which caused some consternation and surprise. To all of us.

To those of you who managed to get one correct answer – congratulations and enjoy your brief moment of (inane) satisfaction. Only one person – “mp” – correctly choose the two false things. And that doesn’t count because she’s one of my sisters!

Sparks & Stuff

I just said in a recent post that I’ll always be happy. Hmm. Guess I meant that in a general sort of way – as in acknowledging the ups and downs of life and figuring there will always be more ups.

Not so happy right now.

The garage door is busted.

And two elements on the stove blew – with loud “pop” sounds and sparks. I’m afraid to turn on the other elements or the stove. I had a little cry after the second pop/spark. It scared me. While malfunctioning stoves are not worth shedding tears over, when this sort of thing comes on top of other stuff, I “pop” too.

All the other stuff is too boring, mundane, personal or private to mention. But I will say this – it all took place in the span of 24 hours.

I’m going to look on the bright side of having a stove that terrifies me. I will not be doing any cooking until it’s fixed. And if the repairman says I need a new stove? Then my no-cooking days will be extended even longer.

The realities of life are screaming for my attention. Maybe the pops and the sparks were simply a means to accomplish that. It worked.

***

Hours later – the repairman finally called back. After it was established that he thinks he can fix it, this is how the conversation went.

Me: “So, after you think it’s fixed do you promise to turn on the elements and stove full blast and wait around for awhile to see what happens?” (Just telling me it’s fixed will never be good enough.)

Him: “I promise.”

Me: “One more promise?”

Him: “Uh, yeah?”

Me: “If the oven and stove are already on and good to go, will you make dinner?”

Him: “Ha! (big laugh) You might not like my cooking!”

Me: “I like anybody’s cooking as long as I’m not the one having to do it.”

Him: “Pasta okay?”

Me: “Sounds great.”


He thinks I’m kidding.

Bathroom Blues

Recent Bathroom Complaints (or Irrelevant Minutiae from Beth’s World)


1. A new tube of toothpaste that is VANILLA flavoured. Yuck.

(Thought I’d bought my usual mint flavoured toothpaste and that it had gone bad.)

2. A new jar (yes, a jar*) of conditioner with the directions: “Generally speaking, use once a week.” Generally speaking?? WTH? What kind of direction is that? I need and want specific instructions – with hair product and recipes.

(*Purchased from my hairdresser because it makes my hair feel soft and silky. Soft and silky goes a long way to compensate for lack of wave and/or curls.)

3. A bottle of Ibuprofen with an expiry date of November 2008.

(Wish I knew how precise these expiry dates are. Is there any leeway? Took a pill. Headache went away – due to an overly conservative expiry date or a placebo effect? Tossed the rest of the bottle.)

4. Water in bathtub not draining at an acceptable rate. While showering, standing in shallow lake. Removed drain stopper to clear drain. Cannot get stopper back in properly (it keeps partially closing) and thus, still standing in shallow lake but not quite as deep.

(Refuse to call repairman for such a minor job. Will try to reinsert drain stopper for the umpteenth time when not so pissed off at myself.)

5. Cleared out cupboards below sink and above laundry hamper approximately two months ago. Both now looking as cluttered and crowded as before.

(Who is buying all this unnecessary junk? For prime suspect, see point # 2.)

6. Vertical strip of wallpaper above mirror coming loose at the seam.

(Easy solution to this nagging problem – stop looking up there. Question – what makes me gaze up there in the first place?)


On a brighter note (and with a nod to Oreneta) the toilet is working just fine.

Household Hints From a Pro

1. If you can’t find the correct screwdriver bit, just choose one that sort of fits. It will get the job done. You might wreck the screw itself (and the screw bit) but that is a problem for another day.

2. If your kids gouge bits of paint off the walls with hockey bags (or whatever) use Wite-Out for touch-ups. It beats sanding and painting the entire area. (Available in colours other than white.)

3. If your doorbell stops working, give it at least a week before bothering to do anything about it. If it’s the same vintage as mine (the 50’s?) it will miraculously start working again on its own. And if it doesn’t, people can always knock.

4. Let a friend catch a few glimpses of the inside of your fridge. She (chances are it will be a she) might eventually and politely ask how old your bottles of salad dressing are. The shame of this will inspire you to go through the entire fridge looking for expired items. You will feel cleansed after this exercise. And if she is your best friend, she will later send you an email - “Hey, how'd you get posted on the internet so fast?! I'm pretty sure this was from your fridge,” with a link to this site. The two of you will probably have a good laugh at your expense.

5. If for some crazy reason you decide to clean behind and under the stove (say, once in a blue moon) be sure to ask your son if and when he’s going out before asking him to move the stove. Failure to do this will give you approximately one minute to tackle the brutal mess before you notice him heading out the front door leaving you with the stove in the middle of the kitchen. Holler for him to come back. He will. Have him shove the stove back. Put off the job for another day.

6. Don’t ever think it is a brilliant idea to rinse out a jar of peanut butter with boiling water left over from making a cup of tea. When you put the lid back on the jar and shake, a mixture of boiling water and peanut butter goo sprays out all over you, the sink, the counter and the backsplash. I don’t know why and I don’t plan on any future experiments in order to figure it out. Oh, yes, and while you’re cleaning up, your tea will get cold.

I actually have more helpful hints I could share but I suspect I’ve made myself look enough of a fool with the ones listed.

My Eventful Day

Some bloggers write a chatty post about what they did on any given day. I’m going to change it up a bit and list all the things I meant to do yesterday but never got around to.

(How boring is this going to be? Read on and see…)

1. Didn’t go to the bank and deposit the (measly) cheque from a publisher. (I’m waiting to make the trip worthwhile.)

2. Didn’t call the repairman to set a date for the front flagstone path repair. (There’s never going to be a good time for this. I am simply delaying the inevitable.)

3. Did not get rid of the dead petunia plant by the front steps. (Died of neglect in a my absence. Thanks, boys.)

4. Did not empty and move the bookcase for the painter who arrives today to repair the water damaged ceilings. (What if it really doesn’t need to be moved? All that wasted effort on my part.)

5. Did not photocopy my driver’s license to send to the accountant for some obscure tax reason. (I forgot.)


With a great imagination, this list could be endless…did not fly to China to see the Olympics, did not ride in a hot air balloon, did not go surfing, did not drive a bus…

Of course, my Did Not Do List begs the question – what did I do yesterday other than perform great feats of procrastination? I won’t bore you with the details, but trust me, whatever I did was better than what I was supposed to be doing.

But I guess you can figure out what I’m doing today.

I'm Drowning

So, last night at 11:00 p.m. (with yet another raging thunderstorm happening) I’m sitting on my bedroom floor rifling through a file folder.

I’m searching for the receipt for a (total) roof job done years ago. I am both cursing and praying. “Please let there be a warranty for the job….”

Hallelujah! I find it. “10 Year Warranty on Workmanship.” Done in 2000. I made the cut-off.

But what does “workmanship” entail? It better mean more than they worked well and that the roof looks nice.

Because it’s bloody hell leaking!! There are three patches on the ceilings in 2 bedrooms where the paint and plaster are not looking good. At all.

Worse – I heard water dripping between the walls. Ominous.

I could shit bricks. I need this like a hole in the head. I’ve already had one roof repair done this year to the tune of 1000’s of dollars. (Porch roof.)

I’m having a moral dilemma here – which is actually more like wishful foolish thinking. Eventually (when things are “settled”) I’ll be selling this place and moving to something smaller. I am so tempted to have the patches fixed (a temporary cosmetic touch-up) and forget about a costly repair job. (Because with my luck this leak will not be covered by that warranty.)

I would sell as is. (Very bad, immoral, etc.)

And I know, I know, I run the risk of the ceiling eventually caving in on the boys and an even greater/costlier repair job.

Common sense will prevail. I’ll make the damn phone call. But I so do not want to deal with this.

I think I’m getting someone else’s share of bad luck on top of my own. Is anyone out there having an incredibly good year? If so, you can thank me.

And even as I write this, yet another torrential rain is falling from the heavens this morning.

But I don’t hear any crash or screams…

(The above picture is not of my ceiling but looks remarkably similar. Curses.)

Acceptance

So, if within the space of 5 minutes you knock over your Starbucks coffee while at an ATM, trip climbing up a stairwell in a parking garage, spend (at least) 10 seconds trying to unlock your car door with the wrong remote (experiencing momentary panic) and the fact you’ve just managed a three-in-a-row feat of clumsiness/stupidity doesn’t even register while it’s happening – what does this mean?

You’re finally getting used to being a klutz?

I think so. I’m ready to embrace both my inner and outer klutziness.

I’d like to refer to it as something else, though.

“Endearing quality” sounds good.

Exposure

I went clothes shopping the other day which I HATE to do. (Strange for a female, I know…) This particular expedition simply confirmed why I hate shopping.

Bought myself a pair of low-rise jeans as per the fashion advice of someone who shall remain nameless.

Problem. While I do possess a pair of hips, they are not of the va-voom! type. When I walk (hell, when I stand) the jeans slide down over said hips. And while it is probably inappropriate to say this, I suspect my butt isn’t big enough to keep the jeans up either.

And, yes, I’ve tried wearing a belt. It just adds weight and speeds up the slippage.

Shit. What a waste of money. They fit perfectly in the store.

Since I’m not thin or skinny, I have come to the following conclusions:

1. Females who wear low-rise jeans without slippage cannot possible sit down in comfort. (Too tight.)

2. Countless others do not mind if their butts show. (This is not really a conclusion – more of a daily observation.)

3. Still others do not find it a nuisance wearing the crotch of their jeans at the mid-thigh point.

If anyone knows the secret to wearing these jeans (other than buying a size too small) please let me in on it.

Fashion-wise, I’m trying…but I need all the help I can get.


P.S. Those are not my Calvin Klein’s.

Spring Thaw

The advantage to being a cat owner as the snow melts and all is revealed?

Two words: Litter box.

(But I do love my mangy mutt!)



(credit to www.forpoopsake.com for the above image.)

Label Conundrum

Does anyone else have difficulty deciding what label to use to categorize a post?

It’s like this for me: I write what I consider (might) be a humorous post BUT then I start thinking. What if no one finds it amusing? Should I (dare I?) label it as humorous?

Judging from the labels on my sidebar, I probably cop out 9 times out of 10. Take a gander at the number of posts under “mundane” or “miscellaneous.”

As for the # of posts categorized as personal? Dear God. That is so, “IT’S ALL ABOUT ME.” I’m embarrassed.

And does anyone ever check those sidebar labels? Perhaps I should do away with it altogether.

I think way too much. About every damn little thing.

That’s all I have for today.

And I’m categorizing this post as “mundane.”


FYI. I just went to Google images to find an picture to go along with this mundane post. Used the search words “post labels.” Holy sh*t. What have I missed about the meaning of those words??? What new naiveté has struck me now? (Not that I found it particularly onerous checking out some of those images…)

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

“Somebody around here hath murdered sleep.”

Seymour – An Introduction
J. D. Salinger


Having a wee bit of trouble lately catching a sufficient number of zzzzzzzz’s.

Happy to report I am still functioning at my usual level of brilliance (I think) and have retained my sense of humour (I think.)

But what the bloody hell is going on with these 3:00 a.m. wake-ups??

Perhaps I am a tad grumpier.

But no one around here DARES TELL ME THAT TO MY FACE!!

And I take comfort from the words of Leonard Cohen:

“The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.”

The Favourite Game
Leonard Cohen

The Abominable SnowBeth

I have blogger’s block – a condition similar to writer’s block except that with writer’s block you suffer a loss of income. With blogger’s block you run the risk of losing an audience. Neither is good.

(I also have writer’s block but that’s another story…and I’m too blocked to write it.)

So, to the rescue - my trusty camera and the able assistance of my son.

And voila! You are subjected to a picture of Beth and Major in the snow in lieu of a scintillating post.

And there is a hell of a lot of snow around. Again. If it wasn’t so beautiful I’d be quite ticked off about having another major snowstorm in less than a week.

Major and I are on the back deck. I very kindly shoveled a path there to enable him to get to the backyard with a little more ease.

The watery blobs on my mitten and on Major’s body must be melting snow that landed on the camera lens.

The fact that my legs are crossed does not mean I had to go to the bathroom. I must have been going for the casual look.

I wore the scarf/neck warmer to go along with my (semi) incognito theme. It really, really smelled. Whoever wore it last forgot to throw it in the laundry.

And I don’t have an enormous head. I’m wearing the hood of my coat over my hat.

I am so stylin’!

As I write, there is thunder and lightening in addition to the continuous snowfall. I am NOT liking this storm.

Absolutely Committed

Just 19 Steps to Achieving Total Fitness:


1. During the summer, note that the boys (while creating their basement bachelor pad) moved the treadmill machine so that it faces a wall. A very boring wall.

2. The cold weather arrives. Suggest they move it. Reluctantly agree no other good spot exists.

3. Frequently glance at it in passing. Berate myself each time.

4. Decide I must make use of it despite the uninspiring view.

5. Wonder (for weeks) where my running shoes are.

6. Finally look for them.

7. Figure out they’re at the cottage.

8. Eventually get around to buying new ones.

9. Leave new running shoes sitting on the kitchen counter as a reminder to use machine.

10. Re: boring wall - decide music is essential for exercising on the damn machine.

11. Ask two of the boys if they possess an old MP3 player. They don’t.

12. Decide to treat myself to an iPod.

13. Good thing I postpone purchase of said iPod. Son # 3 arrives home from school and finds an extra one. (Spoiled rotten kids.)

14. Download my iTunes music to the iPod. (I LOVE APPLE!)

15. Place iPod on counter with running shoes.

16. I am ready to go. Almost. Still searching for motivation.

17. Decide I need a deadline. Will start February 1st. (2008)

18. Consequences if I fail to meet deadline? I can’t think of any other than the fact I will remain unfit. Which I am used to.

It is really, really hard to punish yourself.

(Any suggestions?)

19. Bonus. Thought of something else I need before starting. A new pair of shorts – the loose fitting sporty looking kind. Wouldn’t want my exercise regimen compromised/constricted in any way…


P.S. Don’t bother making inquiries as to my progress. They will not be appreciated.