Warming Up

First Tuesday of the year where my weight has gone up compared to the previous Tuesday. There have been a couple of plateaus, but it’s always been a downward trajectory. But it’s only a minimal increase (made slightly more annoying by the fact that I’d actually been losing weight all week, only for it to jump back up again) which came from a couple of days where I ate a little bit too much or ate out. Sometimes something like this can prompt you to give in and think what’s the point, but it just makes me want to redouble my efforts. My initial target was to be happy if I could get to (and maintain) 87kg. I was 0.9kg away from that on Saturday, but am 1.6kg away today. But it’d be crazy to get so close and then give in. And I will then set my sights on 85kg and then 83kg (which I managed to stay at for quite a long time last time I dieted properly- though I had got down to under 80 before that). 

Last night we had dinner with some friends and it was the first time I found myself looking at my whisky bottles and thinking it would be nice to have a wee dram (I wrote that in my Scotch accent, so please read it that way) and there’s a part of me that is tempted to believe that if Me2 drinks whisky during the snooker frames then that does not count as me drinking. But I will remain steadfast for now. Mainly for fear that Me2 will take over my life and only allow me to be Me me for one minute a day.

We played a balance game with Phoebe, like Buckaroo but based on putting various objects on a slightly wobbly ship deck. It was challenging and fun, but I think a notable moment in her life, because this was the first game she’s played with her mum and dad where everyone was actively trying to win. I am competitive at games (though less so in life) and wanted to wipe the floor with my four year old sexcrement. But I am sad to report that she was better than I was at this game. She seemed to understand balance better than I expected and how to steady a ship that was listing too much one way and her nimble tiny fingers (mine are tiny but like clumsy sausages) gave her the edge. What I was most surprised at was how hard my wife tried to win the games, successfully on a couple of occasions, even though there would be a mini tantrum from the small handed loser (but which one am I talking about?) 

In the end I think Phoebe was the best, but I boasted that third place was still very good and that I had beaten the dog. My daughter laughed and said that Wolfie wasn’t playing, but I still took my victory. 

I recorded chapter 20 of Stone Clearing last night and it went up today. Enjoy it in all its lo-fi glory here, but be warned, it’s more sexually charged than usual. To ensure loads more of this, more snooker and filmed RHLSTPs please back the kickstarter (and get your own stolen cursed stone).