bookmark_borderGod of Morning

As the sun struggles through the grey, I take to the street, headphones already pulsing. I’m not sure how far, how long or how quickly it’ll be over, but I know it has to be done. I prepare to enjoy it, to revel in my new found routine.

It’s early and eerily quiet as I veer away from the main roads, sticking to the business park for the first two sides of the square, the outward leg. The first seconds pass into minutes, and I feel good. Music pounding in my head, driving me on. I take in the view, the flat land before me, the sky arcing upwards as planes drone away into the clouds.

It must have rained last night, remants of puddles bring the occasional welcomed splash. Each one evoking childhood memories of red wellies, Paddington Bear, duffle coats and sandals. The memories twist into different forms, car journeys at night, chips on the seafront, a panting dog in the back. I run on, unaware of my movement, lost in thought, concentrating on nothing. My mind gleefully pulls at the threads of my memory, enjoying the departure back to times forgotten…

Shouting a happy Cooeeee down the long hall at my grandparents house, mince and tatties just for me, the big dark sideboard full of treasures, sweeties in the tin, the dank basement. Onwards my mind races, days out, lying on the grass in the park, a frisbee thrown, a glimpse caught, a first kiss.

The beat changes as the sun emerges to bounce off the glass walls of modern architecture. My pace slows. I always start too fast, too eager to do well, riding the high of achievement too far, it always comes to an end. I curse myself, pushing onwards I start to struggle. The memories disappear, everything is now.

Each step is an impact, each breath is concentrated, my body speaks to me in a million voices, each one begging for attention. I claw at my memories, hoping to bring them back from their hiding place. They remain hidden and the voices demand more attention. Each niggle, each stride, every ounce of effort is measured and accounted.

Turning the corner I join the main road. Two sides of the square remain and the horizon has disappeared from my view. Head down, I ignore the cars as they zip past. Focussed. Breathing hard. Determined. My mood pulls me down, my legs heavy. The sun skips behind clouds as the drizzle descends.

Time changes, slows and retracts. I fight against it, stronger than any head-wind, driving myself forward. Not long now. Not long now.

The final corner and I realise I am almost there, the home straight lies ahead, opening up before me, the pavements stretching out on either side, welcoming arms. I push on, the horizon swings back into sight, head back, pounding the pavement hard, revelling in all my glory. I’ve done it. I am here. I am now. I am everything. Adrenalin swirls through me as I sprint for the finish.

The final few steps are flat out, legs struggling to match my momentum, arms pumping as I glide across the earth. Then it’s over. I ease back, my legs are shaking, my heart thumps in my chest, a deep bass percussion.

Still breathing hard, I inhale my air, survey my kingdom and head for the shower.

For I am the god of the morning.

bookmark_borderNot Planned

I’m a planner. I plan. It’s what I do.

But sometimes things happen and plans need to be adjusted.

I received a somewhat alarming email from 34sp, an ISP I use for a couple of sites I run, including this one. Apparently a couple of my sites were hacked recently. I don’t visit the sites in question very often so it wasn’t something I noticed, although as they were both only ‘down’ for a few hours I seriously doubt that anyone else noticed either. Thankfully both sites have now been restored to their previous state.

Of course this mean that I’ll need to change my FTP passwords and review my internet security in general. I very much doubt that my machine has been hacked, and I’m fairly careful when sending emails around but it pays to be vigilant, and a few additional precautions won’t do any harm. Of course I don’t want to go over the top but it’s funny how these things make you more paranoid than usual.

And whilst I’m at it I need to get the miniblog working again. I’ve tried a couple of plugins and neither have worked. Admittedly I think recent changes to WordPress haven’t helped much, but until things settle down on that front I’m just gonna go with some custom code. More hassle for me but at least it should work, and will protect me a little the next time I upgrade WordPress.

These things were not planned.

However I did manage to go out for a run this morning, that WAS planned, and there will be more on that, later.

bookmark_borderPlanned

I’m a planner. I plan. It’s what I do. I’ve always found planning and designing more fun than doing. I am the guy who can take multiple ideas and stream them into one thing. I am largely INTJ. I’m quite happy being that person.

However it doesn’t sit well with the fact that I (largely) don’t trust other people to do things the way I want them done. Tha sounds worse than it really is, so let’s just say that some people do things in a way that I find odd. I’m sure those people say the same about me. So with my desire to plan and my tendency to want to do things my way, in my own time… well… things can take a little time to get done. Take, for example, the shelves in our kitchen.

When we moved in there was a multitude of things to do, and we decided to do things in a certain order. The redecorating was done first, then smaller jobs that would make the house more ‘live-able’ were tackled later. In the kitchen there was a gap of about a foot between the end of the kitchen units and the wall. It was crying out for some shelving and after some measuring up my Dad provided the wood. All I had to do was drill a few holes, cut a few batons, and so on. Not a big job.

Yet the wood for the shelves lay around our house for 4 years, being moved around as we shuffled rooms, stubbing toes and generally getting in the way wherever I moved them. There is no good reason that I didn’t put them up for that length of time. I just didn’t.

But I digress.

You see, I have this week all planned, mainly because it’s what I do, and largely because it’s my way of ‘coping’ whilst Louise is away. No I don’t mean I can’t ‘cope’, I’m perfectly capable of cooking, cleaning and… what’s that chore called where you use the hot thingy to make your clothes flat…

Of course, plans are all well and good but sometimes, frequently as it happens, the “can be bothereds” get in the road. But that doesn’t stop me planning. It’s what I do.

So, for the record, and because typing it up helps me with the planning exercise, here is my plan for the week.
Continue reading “Planned”

bookmark_borderFashion

“I mean, look at him”

“Who?”

“That guy, with the tan jacket”

“What about him?”

“Well I know I’m not the most fashionable guy, but even I wouldn’t wear THAT”

“What? A tan jacket??”

“No, ohh can’t you see from there? Ahhh wait a minute, wait until that woman moves the buggy… wait…”

“OH MY GOD!”

“See, told you.”

“But why? I mean… why? That’s just SO wrong. Do you think she dressed him and forgot he was a guy?”

“Hey, at least they match his jacket.. and they’re clean, they certainly don’t look like they’ve ever seen a building site that’s for sure.”

“You’re right there, cleanest pair of work boots I’ve ever seen!!”

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s got his trousers tucked into them though…”