Blah

I’ve had a busy week. There were some dramas at work so I ended up working straight through without my usual days off and I’m feeling it. The house is also feeling it because it looks like a brothel. Not that there are any scantily clad women lounging around the place, just that there isn’t a clean plate in the cupboard and there are three loads of washing to be done.

But I have the day off today, so I’m catching up on the housework, the blog-reading, the tax filing, the studying and the fire-stoking. It’s still cold and quite frankly, I’m over it. I’m ready for non-ugg-boot weather and temperatures in the double-digits. Things don’t really start being warm here until October though, so it’s still a long way off.

I actually got that cold today that I moved my desk in front of the fire:

Mmm..toasty

Today I start Week 5 of the c25k programme which means I’m half-way through. It’s actually been quite painless – except for the frequent wedgies I somehow seem to get and the embarrassment I feel at exactly how unfit I am. I discovered the need for decent socks last week so off I went to the bogan mecca, a.k.a. Target (pronounced Tar-jay for that extra touch of elegance) yesterday and bought 4 different types of socks. Funnily enough I had to buy kids socks because for adults, they don’t make anything longer than a quarter crew. My quarter crew normally turns into a no-crew because my shoes end up eating my socks, so even though long sports socks are not that attractive, I’m happy to sacrifice fashion for comfort.

I also bit the bullet and bought a decent sports bra. I’m not actually that well-enough endowed to normally need a bra, but I do wear a crop-top-bra-thing when running to minimise bounce. I figure anything that may help the relentless journey south of my fun bags is a good investment so I paid $25 and came home with a wire-free, high-impact, bounce-reducer thing that hopefully will do its job.

I almost came home with yet another pair of boots yesterday too, but I restrained myself. If they’d been stiletto heels instead of the thicker heels they were, I would have had to purchase them. I tried them on, pictured M’s disappointment in yet another pair of ‘nice day boots’ entering the house and decided to save the $45 instead. I also wasn’t that keen on the name of the boots, “Cougar”. Yeah, I’m no longer in my twenties, but I wouldn’t quite class myself in cougar territory yet.

I’d also like to report that I am officially addicted to popcorn made in my fabulous new popcorn maker. Seriously, I don’t know how I lived the past 33 years of my life without one. Unfortunately, it’s just a little bit too convenient and I’ve been stuffing my face with bowls of the stuff. It’s addictive.

Mmm..popcorn

M is still looking around for a better-paid job that would be a bit more intellectually stimulating and some murmurs of possible jobs in another (warmer!) state have come up. He was talking about what he’d do if he got one of the jobs- rent out the house here and rent an apartment in the city there and he said I could either go with him, go back to my family, or whatever.

And I was like, wtf?

And he said that because I wasn’t wearing his collar, I’d made no commitment and therefore he wasn’t making any assumptions.

And I was like, wtf?

He is an interesting soul. I think since the de-collaring incident he has been in ‘withdrawal mode’, meaning he doesn’t want to invest too much emotions-wise in case I bail out. I can’t blame him, I suppose. I’d probably do the same thing myself – withdraw a bit so I didn’t get hurt too badly if things did go pear-shaped. For all his talk of him considering me as ‘his slave’ and that ‘nothing has changed’, it obviously has somewhere inside him. On the surface, we’re still the same ‘couple’, but scratch that veneer and there’s obviously something different underneath.

It just kind of hit me though that he would think that I wouldn’t go with him. It was a reality check that slapped me across the face and then stuck its fingers up my nose for fun.

Honestly, hearing his, ‘you do whatever you want’ comment made me feel a little bit like when I was going to leave the one-who-shall-not-be-named and he said, ‘You don’t have to go.’

And I was like, ‘WTF does that mean? Do you want me? Do you not want me? Say what you mean,man!’

Non-committal statements.

You’ve just got to love them.