And anybody who says otherwise   Leave a comment

Is stealing one of Richard Herring’s running jokes.

Yesterday evening I didn’t go to the gym.

This isn’t because I’m lazy. It’s also not because my real motivation in going to the gym wasn’t anything to do with exercise or socialising, but to beat the membership system, and now that I’ve used it more than I could have for the same money without a membership I don’t feel obliged to go any more.

No. Obviously my real reasons were that I’d had a busy weekend, and so needed a day off to recuperate and catch up on the things that I’d not had time to get done. Also my legs ached from cycling on Sunday, so I was letting them recover. You’ve got to do that, or the muscles don’t build properly. I read it on the internet.

So I played Freespace for most of the evening.

And did the washing-up. Unfortunately, my clumsiness and my sink’s vicious hatred of all transparent beverage containers claimed another victim when I knocked a glass into the mini-rinsing-sink bit. Even more unfortunately, my right hand happened to be in the mini-rinsing-sink bit at the time, and the newly-crafted shards slid along my fingers, cutting two. Neither major, but on my middle finger the cut is at a shallow angle, leaving a flap of skin only half-attatched to the joint.
And as my hands had been in nice, hot water for quite some time, it bled. Everywhere. For over an hour. And every time it looked like it was stopping it got more wet (had to finish the washing-up), or I bent my finger, and it started over again. Sigh.

Still, going to the gym requires gripping things quite firmly, which would doubtless break the scab. And covering their expensive equipment in blood would be rude, messy and unhygenic. And also would hurt. So that’s tonight’s excuse sorted.


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