Forgive me readers for it has been two or three days since my last post. And forgive me further because I haven’t run…unless you count running after Fizz during an attempted escape?
Yes, my darling step-dog thought it would be a reasonably good idea to bomb out of the front door again and disappear. Thank goodness for mine and Scotty Boys nerves this time she only made it as far as the next street over. Luckily, there were no police, neighbours, random passer by’s involved for a first.
Like master like dog, ey?
Yes, having married a Gurnos boy it comes of no surprise that the police seem to be frequent visitors to the Phillips household. If it’s not the dog it’s the husband and all that jazz!
PC whatever his name turned up a few days ago and Scotty Boy had to go do a voluntary interview or what not last night. I’ll have to admit my hoop got a bit twitchy when he hadn’t arrived home by eight but thankfully all is well in the land of the newlyweds and the husband will not be sent down, won’t have to go to court and has not added to his criminal convictions.
I have, however had a pretty normal week of it and I have been to work and written a further chunk of the future bestseller! (One is still dreaming a substantial amount!)
And dreaming is leading to all sorts of trouble, like writing my resignation and then tearing it up as sanity creeps back in.
Work is killing me slowly. Literally, every day another bit of my soul gets chipped away by the daily grind and it does make me wonder, frequently, if truth be told, is it really bloody worth it? ‘Dear Boss…I’m done!’
Take today for example, I have wished the past three weeks away to get to here, today; payday, and having doled out my hard earned cash that I have already, technically spent, I am once again with pauper status.
I am in a state of permanent depression with regards to my finances and I’m told running elevates stress!
I suppose that’s unfair because while I’m out and I’m legging it through Ponty or Merthyr I am as free as a bird…a chubby bird, with a stiff wing but nevertheless, there is a freeness of troubles as I clock up the mileage.
Tonight I will be attempting the ‘bastard’ slip road again. Yes, I’m braving it and determined, more than ever, to have less walking involved this time.
The boob situation, touch wood of all kinds, seems to be under control at the moment. Literally, under control, they have stopped moving, stopped bouncing and are currently on best behaviour as they just sit under the scaffolding that are my two bras.
I’m then going to play Bingo! Yes, now I’m a wife and I cook and pair the socks and do general wifely things (cue 1960’s hairdo) I am off for a round of house with the girls from work and quite frankly…I can’t wait!
‘House!’ the last time I played bingo was in the canteen of Rassau primary school and I won a compact mirror and a set of Christmas tea-towels, I hope to god I’m more successful tonight.
So, slip road running in the rain then bingo to make my fortune. Sounds like an ideal Thursday to me.
Obviously having made all these idiotic plans, the novel will be shelved on the backburner tonight but I am determined to get up with the larks tomorrow and bang out a good 3k of incredibly witty and charming prose. Wish me luck, please. Early rising is not my forte, unlike Scotty Boy who always needs a wee first thing, if you know what I mean, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. (I’d be grateful if no one mentioned this to hubby dearest please. He’s still miffed that I keep re-telling the whole ‘husband got arrested on honeymoon' debacle.)
So, this was just a little note to keep you all in the loop today and I hope to inform you of some more substantial running/writing/wife duties tomorrow or Saturday.
Happy Thursday!
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