As usual January is proving to be a struggle. Once just once I would like to start the year with gay abandonment and joy and be able to look forward in hope and anticipation.  So far the joy has been in short supply and the only thing I have had to anticipate is how tired im going to be by the end of each day.

Having run myself ragged during the run up to Christmas and with my broken daughter in the mix I reached January in poor condition.  If I had been a horse they would have either put me out to pasture or shot me.! I caught one thing after another and couldn’t seem to shake anything off and even when I did take a day off work because I felt so ill I still had to get in the car to pick up Matilda and take her to the minder and collect her again because there was no one else to do it.

I began to feel like I was drowning and with only pennies in my purse and my fridge looking like mother Hubbard’s I frankly could have gone to bed and stayed there. At least an empty fridge meant I couldn’t eat and as the diet had commenced starving myself thin was the way forward.  But of course you don’t! You spend what little money you do have on cheap and filling stuff with enough calories in it to add  a nice extra layer to my already wobbly bits. I mean how many ways can you make pasta and as for  jacket potatoes I knew I was losing it when instead of just pricking the skin I stabbed it so viciously and so often you could almost hear it begging for mercy!

I tried to get to the gym (might as well make use of the monthly membership fee ) but was so lacking in motivation I would use any excuse not to go.  When I have managed to drag myself there my thoughts always are the same.. I so want to be the people leaving as I walk in. You know the ones, all red-faced and shiny with damp fly away hair and smug smiles.  Full of exercise educed endorphins, and a spring in their trainers as they rush home to have tuna on their very delicately pricked jacket potato!.

So in I go and take up my position on the cross-trainer. I always like to be away from people (the flying sweat experience you may recall) so select a machine with no one either side.  I always think that these machines are too close together in any event and its bad enough hearing my own laboured breathing with out listening to the guy next to me.  I plug myself in with my motivating music blasting in my ears and off I go. Two minutes in someone takes the machine on my left and five minutes later the machine on my right gets occupied. Great I  now feel like a ham sandwich. I plough on regardless trying not to grimace.

I often go for a swim in the outdoor pool and follow that with a Sauna.  Its lovely getting warm after the icy blast outside unless the Sauna is occupied by the typical male. Why is it that they have to make a noise.  Not conversation I can live with that but the grunting and exhaling and sighing as if they are about to keel over with exhaustion from their efforts. They fidget and lay down taking up a whole bench,  then they fiddle with their very unsexy swimshorts pulling at the waistband causing it to make a load thwacking noise. Then they drink water out of a bottle.  Big slurping gulping sounds followed by another bit groan and a sigh!.  They get up and give the shorts another thwack and then they tap the timer on the wall and then sit down again with a loud squelch. Then there’s the guy that stands up to give his over large body the full benefit of the heat and stands with his arms out.  You are left praying that while his arms are up his swimshorts don’t descend any further down as they are already perilously close to exposing his meat and two veg. Why do they do it ? Women dont  Answers on a post card please.

A workout does however improve the mood and before long I am the smug smiley one tripping out into the cold with my shiny apple face and damp hair and looking forward to my murdered jacket potato.

I did have a glimmer of hope on the horizon as I had a long text from one of  my favorite TBs.( the one that took me to heaven and back on a regular basis)  I havent seen him for ages but we had kept in contact the odd phone call and text until recently when he had gone silent and one or two texts I had sent him remained unanswered.  Resigning myself to the fact that he was gone for good I mental crossed him off my list of possibilities. I had always hoped that we would see each other again even if it was just once more time.  I was curious to know whether he would still have the same effect on me and my body and it had been our intention when he came back to England.  Sadly distance and workload had kept him away and I suspect a same aged GF too.

He sent me a warm apologetic text for his lack of communication. It was never his strong point, texting. He preferred to talk on the phone and certainly had no problem communicating in other ways once in the my presence. He wished me a happy new year and hoped I was well and said he would like talk on the phone. I didn’t answer for a few days, I was ill and couldn’t think of how to respond having written him off.  Eventually I sent a light message making a joke about his usual slow response and ended it with call me soon ! Two days later (not bad for him) I got a response offering to call me the next evening providing he finished his assignment and didn’t sleep through the day.

So my expectation was that he would probably call.  I was in for the evening anyway but kept checking my phone. At about 9.30 I realised that the phone call wasnt coming despite expecting it I was disappointed. My mood sunk lower than ever and I went to bed wishing Id never responded to the bloody text in the first place. I did not need to be reminded of what I was missing.  I had been seeing a couple of others one for some time but he had got a bit demanding in the bedroom always trying to push me a little beyond my comfort zone and I just don’t think the chemistry was strong enough so I hadn’t seen him for a while and the other, well he fell into the “out-of-bounds ” category.  I wanted to be swept of my feet, overwhelmed with desire , electrified not petrified with what I might be asked to do next. (but this would be whole blog on its own)!.

The following day I heard about the sad death of a school friend of mine to Cancer. I was greatly saddened. We had been good friends at school and I could still hear her distinctive giggle in my head.  She was a lovely person very good-natured and had left behind a husband and four grown up children.  I hadn’t seen her for some years but my adolescent memories remain vivid and alive.  Imparting the news to my best friend who also knew her well and whose birthday we were celebrating that evening we decided to attend the funeral.

She had been one of our gang and it seemed the right thing to do.  Feeling that life sometimes was just too unfair we drowned our sorrows in the usual way. Another birthday and another rolls on and I need to get some joy back in mine and quick.


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