Wednesday 17 January 2007

The Receptionist's Desk

On the bus today. Although I was tempted to bike. I won't get my Friday ride in this week before we are going straight up to the Lakes after work. L is pleased I'm not biking, she says it will do me good to have a rest as I've only got dogging tonight, squash tomorrow, a long drive on Friday, and a killer walk in the Lakes on Saturday. A rest? What's a rest? Although we have a lie-in diarised for next Saturday.

Journey in was awful and I was 15 mins late for work. Glad I wasn’t in the car though!

Sit at work and realise what a wreck I am. Shoulders aching, presumably from yesterdays biking. That's as well as my two throbbing hamstrings. A swim would perhaps do me good but I've sabotaged that by coming on the bus. L had even given me permission to frequent the Wednesday night babes session without being chaperoned. Think she assumes, probably correctly, that none of those women will want to share a lane with an old crock like me.

Talking of swimming, L is not happy that she only managed 20 lengths this morning and apparently it was all Doggo's fault. It seems that he had a bit of a disruptive shag fest this morning and humped everything he could lay his paws on.

My mate confidently predicts that Leeds will be bottom of the league by the weekend. The problem with that plan is that the only team below them is Southend and they are playing us this weekend. Unless Southend have worked out that we only attack in injury time then it's bound to be 1-0 to Derby. Their fans might as well not bother going and go down the bookies instead and put all their savings on 1-0 to Derby.

He's also training hard and going for a massive 2.3K on the treadmill tonight. I am very encouraging but he just thinks I'm trying to soften him up for squash tomorrow. Absolutely. Of course I am. Want him as knackered as possible.

I walk into Derby to catch the bus home. When I get there I see they have tacked another bus shelter on to the end of the existing one for the Red Arrow. This is quite an admittance of failure. As the only time there is a queue for the Red Arrow is when the 5.20 bus doesn't turn up, which happens every day. So rather than cure that problem they've put up another bus shelter instead so everyone can wait in 'comfort'.

Once I get home, Doggo and I walk Daughter to guides. Lots of whinging about how it'll be warmer in the car, well maybe but only once the heater has got warmed up e.g. after we've got there! So walk we do. Daughter wearing a Snoopy apron. Don't ask. What's worse is I leant it to her. Don't ask.

Get back from Guides and we get straight in the car. Don't tell Daughter. It's nice and warm in the car, now that we're out of the wind. Don't tell Daughter that either. We drive down to pick up L and the new computer, which has finally arrived, from her work.

She comes to the door dressed in her work stuff, looking very professional and a total turn-on in her black tights and skirt. I'm reminded of what Jeremy Clarkson wrote in one of his articles recently. He was on about how 'real men' are no longer appreciated and all women want is a 'new men'. He says 'real men', and I assume Jeremy must regard himself as one, are designed to kill foxes and bend every woman they meet over the nearest piece of furniture and give them a damn good seeing-to.

Well I'm not thinking about harming any animals but I think I've just had one of my allocation of seven sexual thoughts for the day (that's another article by the way which I'll blog about some other time).

Unfortunately I am extremely short of time; have a collie waiting in the car and to top it all her boss is still hanging around. So the chances of me stepping inside and ravishing her there and then across the receptionist's desk are a tad remote. Oh well. Some other time perhaps.

We get home and I just have time for some soup and bread before it's off to Doggo's hobby again. Yep another agility class. It goes quite well apart from when Doggo sees his least favourite 'mate' wee up a bit of wall. Doggo then spends the next hour sniffing and licking it (ugh) and weeing over it. Not just once you understand but for the whole bloody hour.

Back home and L is keen for an 'early' night which is good as I'm still thinking about the receptionist's desk and therefore feeling pretty rampant.

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