'Mega'bus?

Began my journey home yesterday at 11:30 - arrived at 22:30!! No, I don't live in Jamaica, that's how long it takes to get from Watchfield to Sale if you opt not to use the train. I love Oxford Tube buses, big, clean double deckers with few passengers and lots of leg room. My inner child ran straight upstairs to steal the front seat - sensible side said 'you're toast if you crash', but my inner adventurer reasoned that the vantage point makes it worth the gamble. Windshield was sporting a massive crack from one side to the other but adventurer insisted we 'risk it for a biscuit'. London's gorgeous on a sunny day. Everyone out riding their horses, jogging or chilling in Hyde Park - a small taste of what life would be like if global warming keeps its promises.


Bought a book and an ice-cream sundae which was presented to me in a fire bucket as I waited for my bus transfer at Victoria. Was waiting for the usual sleek, blue double decker Megabus when this turned up. (see pic) 'Pity the poor bastards getting that for their journey' I thought to myself. Hmmm. Four and half hours of being crammed into a little, un-reclinable seat with no leg-room in front of the smelliest, loudest girl on Earth and I was indeed pitying the poor bastards - namely myself. Seemed that the only thing working was the air-con., which had apparently decided to make up for all other short comings by being super-efficient. 20 degrees outside, and we were all wearing coats and scarves.

Was so good to get home to the family and a dinner plate sized slab of aged red meat. Today's Easter Friday, meaning we've decided to exchange choccies 2 days early. Chouchoute, champagne eggs and Reese's peanut butter cups...who needs a man when you've got chocolate?

Procrastinate now. Don't put it off!

A double bed really is a terrible thing to waste, so here I am, under the quilt, propped up on cushions in a fashion reminiscent of grandpa Joe from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - he only got out of bed for chocolate too. Snuck, stealth-like, down to the kitchen at about 10am to raid my stash for a Fudge bar - only 115 calories and a bit of fat - I reason it's less than a bowl of cereal and therefore a perfectly viable breakfast. One cup of Te Rojo and a glass of Robinsons no added sugar apple & blackcurrant cordial later and my staple dietary requirements for the day are well on the way to being complete. Disaster Management presentation due tomorrow is, however, far from it.

We've had some nice weather recently - 'nice' in the British weather vocabulary meaning 'not wet' and 'above freezing'. It's slightly overcast today but the damn wind has finally blown itself out and all is strangely peaceful. Nothing but the sounds of people mowing their lawns, the birds chattering in the trees and a flock of pigeons flying themselves dizzy in circles round the house. God, I crave summer like a fat kid craves cake. Have been sleeping with the window open the past few nights for the simple fact that I can - finally - without dying of hypothermia in my sleep. Just 3 days of 12 degrees and watery sunshine and already I wake up covered in mosquito bites - god I love scratching them. Reminds me of summer.

Study's not going too well. Somewhere between New Year and now I lost impetus, then interest, and finally the will to live. Okay, so it's not that bad, but this course can be pretty tough when you have nothing and no-one to take your mind off work. (Cue the violins...) I need a hobby, a release of some kind.

In a period of extreme desperation a couple weeks ago I decided to brave the treadmill while the gym was deserted and no-one could see me sweat. Lo-and-behold I discovered not only that I can run (previous attempts had resulted in something verging on heart failure) but that I enjoy it. For a blissful 20 minutes the only thought to cross my mind was where the next lungful of oxygen was coming from - a welcome respite from the usual 'does he, doesn't he?', assignment deadline panic, and job application fear. My personal best is still only 2.5kms in 16.5 mins - I know, herds of turtles have been known to stampede through peanut butter in better time - but I'll improve with practice and the correct motivation, ie. anger, frustration, and chocolate. For those of you who don't know, I was always the kid bringing up the rear in gym class (no, not the chubby asthmatic kid, the one behind him), so this will be no easy journey, but should keep us all entertained nevertheless. Now all I need is the courage to ask one of the on-site army PTIs to help devise a training plan...