Louise is flying to Spain on Sunday to spend the week with her Dad, he’s a wee bit under the weather at the moment and is thoroughly looking forward to seeing his baby girl. His baby girl is equally excited, if not moreso.
What that means is that I have a week to myself, a week in which I will, no doubt, develop my own routine free from any need to be considerate. Whilst I will miss my darling wife whilst she is away, if I’m really honest I will enjoy a week of ‘freedom’. I’ve only ever lived on my own for a couple of months, but didn’t really appreciate it at the time (for a variety of “not good” reasons), so whenever I get the chance to live like a bachelor I tend take full advantage and get into my own routine.
So, from Sunday night it’ll be nothing but booze, burds and bingeing! WOOHOOOO!! I’ve already got the industrial cleaners booked, and they are getting a big fat bonus if they keep their traps shut and ignore anything untoward that is strewn about… drugs, half-naked women, goats…
OK. Not goats.
OHHH OK. Not drugs or half-naked women either.
Alas my middle-aged, middle-class life doesn’t contain such excitement these days. Although if I’m honest it never really contained that many goats in the first place.
Or half-naked women come to think of it.
(hey, come on, my Mum reads this…)
No, instead I’ll be using this week to establish a new item into my routine. I can hardly wait.
You see, since starting my new job in January, I’ve been getting up around 6 am mainly to avoid the worst of the traffic on my new commute, and have long planned to use the extra time to try going for a run in the morning. I am not a morning person, but as there are showers at work, and the area surrounding the office is reasonably flat (as opposed to the large hill at the top of which I live), it’s an ideal opportunity to up my mileage (kilometreage?).
So yes, I’ll be getting up at 6am prompt and trying to fit in one, or maybe two, extra runs this coming week. That’s the plan at least.
Unless anyone has a goat I can borrow…