Friday, 16 May 2014

Jogger: A Sort of Tardis With Legs...

The spring has officially spa-ruuuung!!  Or is it summer now?  I'm not sure.

Just Googled it. Yup, it's summer.  I LOVE summer.  I spend weekends employing any excuse to get out of the house, often just standing on my doorstep doing nothing bar grinning like a moron who's never experienced daylight.  My weekdays then comprise of staring out the office window and waiting for the imaginary bell to ring that means I can turn off my computer and go out to play.

Summer reminds me of one of the main reasons that I love running.  It's the perfect way to be outside and not just creepily smiling at your neighbours from your doorstep with morning hair. People think you're being all productive and healthy and shit, when all you're really doing is getting high as balls off of mother nature's brightest lamp. This week has been glorious, and I feel effing marvelous!  

Yes, I am aware that I might have mild s.a.d.  Grey clouds depress me, and no one should ever cross me if it's windy out.  Oof.

Last week (a crappier week for weather), I was my own lazy twin.  I was lethargic and stressed, and all I wanted to do was glare at the TV and eat leftover Easter eggs until the mess around me decided to clean itself up.  I convinced myself that it was a busy week.  I was too busy.  Work and boring, domestic chores were mounting up, and I didn't have time to run.  Mundane, everyday tasks and their sheer, bloody endlessness were getting to me, and I just wanted to drop everything and sulk in a hole until all this being-a-grown-up bullshit passed me by.  How people who reproduce manage to take care of themselves as well as other humanlings is beyond me.  I find it hard enough to point myself in the vague direction of work at the right time every morning.

I may also have been PMSing, but this is wholly beside the point.  However, it would go some way explain the fact that everyone I spoke to's heads turned into chocolate eggs right before my eyes.

Yes.  Moving on.  After a week of self pity and doing everything from laundry to making food so that I could, y'know, live and stuff with way more unbridled fury than strictly necessary, a friend and I went for a ten mile run.  

And I felt instantly better.  After my knees remembered how to be knees, anyway.  Once I'd had a snack and a little sit down, I chased those up with an epiphany.  I will always have time to run.  I'm amazed at how the busier I get, the more sedentary I become.  Paperwork, phonecalls, office work etc require being sat on my backside. I complain that I don't have enough time, and yet I spend so much time fuming over the fact that I have so much to do that I don't get on with actually doing the things.

Running has this magical ability to give me time.  Not only is it likely to add years onto my life (fingers crossed no buses!), but it improves the rest of the free time I have by making me more physically and mentally able to get on with life's dull stuff.  It puts me in a good enough mood to have me chuckling along to Netflix on the iPad when I'm doing the dishes, and gives me enough energy to bounce my way through whatever else the rest of my day has in store.  And weirdly, because I boing from activity to activity after I've had my five or six miles, I find these strange extra pockets of time I didn't know I had before.  I'm not sure how it works.

Obviously, I just run so fast that I manage to bend time.  That must be it.

Am not jogger. Am time machine!!

Thursday, 15 May 2014

Women In Their Own Words

Oh, hi! 

What have I done this week? Oh, nothing.  Only got interviewed for a shiny new website aimed at writerly types with lady parts (Hey, I'm a writerly type with lady parts!!)!  

It's called and was set up by a journalist with shiny hair and equally swishy writing skills called Sarah-Jane Darcey ( @sarahjanedarcey to youTwittererers...tweeter...twittites...twitterators?).  

The site is aimed at established women writers and bloggers and such like, as well as other boob-sporters who want to up their game in the world of writing.  I belong to the latter camp.  What I lack in actual success, I more than make up for in desparation and attention seeking.
Women In Their Own Words is packed full of handy interviews already, despite it only going live this Monday.

It's really ver' good.  And not just because they let me warble on for a whole page about myself.  It's only a little bit because of that.  Maybe, like, 49% or so. Mm-hmm.

Oh, and it's pretty too.  Another important factor. See! See!

If you want to read a page of me talking about my favourite topic (mememeMEEEE!!) , point your clicky device.... here!

Well, that's quite enough narcissism for one day for me.  I'm off to locate some snacks and learn how to be a better blogger by trawling aforementioned website.  Next time I'm online, I'll knock your chuffing socks off, readers, with my abundance of literary know-how and...and...pizzaz! Is pizzaz still a word?  I know pizzas is.
....Or I might just mildly amuse you by rambling on for a whole post about what I've done to embarrass myself that day and informing you about the weird, shriveled thing I found at the back of the fridge.  Whatever.  Can't get any worse, though, can it?

[squeaks]...can it?

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

(Lack of) Money On My Mind

They say that people always live within their means, but I think that's cow poop.  I, like almost every other person I know in their twenties and early thirties like to perch precariously on the edge of my means, waving merrily down into the gaping jaws of Total Skintness.  And thanks to online banking, I can now beckon my friends over and show them the terrifying but inexplicably exhilerating view.

"Look, guys, I can see my overdraft limit from here!"

I live in a permanent state of poorness that ranges from "Ha, look, I got to zero! This is a good month! Drinks on meee!", all the way down to "Mustn't move in case last bit of loose change falls from pockets, and I need that for the loaf of bread I'm going to be living off for three weeks."  Totally my own fault, though. 

I live in a first world country where I am fortunate enough to have enough cash to allow me to rent, eat, and buy myself plenty of non-essential items like smelly candles (bought my first Yankee the other day and have decided that this officially makes me a grown up) and things that my cat will ignore in favor of my stuff.  I haven't made any small people with my uterus, and so all of my money is technically expendable. 

 I'm lucky that my money is my money (except for when it's money I'm borrowing from good old Uncle Natwest).  No one relies on me to keep them alive and fed, which is just as well because I'd probably just lose them under my pile of Apple products and stationary that I'll never use anyway.  I loves me a fancy blank notebook or ten. Mmm...stationary.

But the relative financial freedom my situation affords me means that I'm constantly pissing my hard(ish) earned dollahs away on junk.  I type this on a standalone PC next to the iPad I'm Facebooking on simultaneously.  Behind me sits an exercise bike shaped clothes horse, and I am charging both my Fitbit and Garmin sports watch with aforementioned PC.  Each of these purchases required vigorous excuse making, as did my bazillion other "do you really need that?" items.  

So here is a list of tried and tested excuses that I strongly feel allows me to constantly spend just beyond my means.  If you would like to join me on the yawning precipice of accidental bankruptcy (whoopsy, I slipped!), then these will get you here much more quickly.  I'll budge up and make some room for you:

1.  Am drunk.  Money is not real when you are drunk.  Like in Monopoly.

2.  It's sunny and it would be illegal to not visit a beer garden and have a "few" pints.

3.  It's the weekend.

4.  Am in a bad mood. =)

5.  Am in a good mood. >=(

6.  It's Friday, and I deserve a reward for going to work for a whole week.

7.  The purchase of this book/tv box set/expensive bit of technology that appears to do nothing but go "beep" at set intervals will change my life in such a way that I would be sabotaging my quality of life if I bypassed this chance to make said purchase.  It's my human right to own this thing!

8.  I'll use it every day, I swear!! 

9.  If you buy it on the internet, you use internet money.  Internet money is not real money.  God bless you, Amazon.

10.  I know I got paid yesterday and I'm in my overdraft already, but I'll be getting paid in another month, so it's fiiiiine...

See? All valid, logically sound arguments, I think you'll agree.  Now, I'm off to buy some tyres (essential), groceries (essential) and Lily Allen's new album (even more essential than tyres and groceries combined).  Hope your bank holiday weekends were smashing!