Aural Pain

Wimped out of biking. Well I'm being sensible, not being 100% fit, biking would not do me a lot of good. Learnt that from 'that' book. L also claims she is being sensible as regards her injury, saying that when she goes out with the dog she walks for five minutes as a warm up. That's no mean achievement because when I try and take Doggo for a walk when he thinks he's on a ‘run’, he keeps hurling himself at the end of the lead, trying to up the pace.

So therefore I'm on the bus. It's quite busy but I regret picking a seat in front of two girls whose inane conversation gets to me almost instantly. I desperately fiddle with my Ipod trying to get some music fired up to drown them out. This isn't as easy as it used to because my damaged screen is getting progressively worse and is now barely readable. Must get it fixed.

Meanwhile the aural pain the two girls are inflicting on me increases as they effortlessly switch their conversation from Big Brother to their 'inept' boyfriends and back. Their boyfriends, all their friend's boyfriends and in fact all men on the planet, just want to go out and have fun rather than settle down at home with their women, have children, do the housework and presumably hold hands while watching big brother. Hmmm yes well wouldn't anyone!

Finally find something loud, Forward Russia, and my sanity is saved.
Then I read in the paper that more women send racey text messages than men, like that girl did on the bus before Christmas (see 20/12/06). Not sure the two girls' behind me got surveyed for that one.

Apparently 47% of women admitted sending an explicit suggestion by text in the last fortnight but only 34% of men did. Presumably the remaining 66% forgot to text their girlfriend anything at all. Apparently when it comes to email, it's the other way round with men being more overt than women.

As I walk from the bus stop to work, I notice that our gypsy friends are back, down the road at the disused railway roundhouse.

Fairly uneventful day at work.

It's raining as I leave work and head to the bus stop. Predictably all the bus shelters are full. The number of people waiting for the Red Arrow and therefore crammed into the bus shelter tells me they're running late again.

Get home and L takes Doggo for a quick spin and then goes off to one of those expensive council badminton sessions with Daughter.

Then I have a meeting with my financial advisor. This time at home. Last time I saw him, he was half-cut in a bar in Bingham. To his credit he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember that I wanted a meeting with him and as promised he did call me to setup a meeting. Now I bend his ear about how my pension policies, which like everyone else's, are doing nothing.

After he's gone I cook up another 'warming' Thai curry.

I think L and I are both suffering with some bug or something but as promised she delivers on an 'early night'. She inflicts some torturously slow and gentle sex on me. Wonderful.