Who knew?

It is really alarming, when you think you are fairly fit (just decent shape, not the obnoxiously slimy, 'She's fit!' descriptive) because you have moved away from your sedentary, auto-transported lifestyle and begun the healthful activity of actually using your own legs in a meaningful ambulatory way every day of the week, to be reading calmly and suddenly become aware of a pain in your abdomen. The shame comes when you realise that the cause of this pain would be the mere fact that you have ridden your bicycle, but only a little piddling distance really, over the past two days and that your abs seem to be connected to the moving of those two wheels. Who knew?

On the vexing Pollyanna side of things, the fact that my abs are in pain is good, as it signals that at least some of the massive caloric intake of Tracie's visit has been negated.

So the visit began a little uncertainly. Tracie's train was 75 minutes late yesterday (drank gi-normous cup of tea and read two magazines in WH Smith and then perused their book selection, correcting incorrectly alphabetised books) and then I could not, not, not find her -- upstairs on the platform, downstairs to the lobby, upstairs to the platform, along the entire length of train peering through windows and frightening people, back downstairs to the lobby, give up and biked home... But then she called! She had been hunched over asleep on the train! Am quite glad that she didn't sleep through the boarding time and the trip back and awakened to find herself back in Paddington. That would have been vexing.
Will have to post pic after she emails one to me.

Would like to place a Call to Action against any sort of store loyalty card. Those things are the most annoying, clique-ish Shrinkers of Self-worth in a Public Venue and what real purpose do they serve? Yeah, the store might send you coupons or give you 6 pence off an item that they just upcharge for the poor souls who aren't in the Group, but really...

So if you are a member of their little club, you either don't have the silly thing with you 3/4 of the time, or are forced to dig for it while people in line purse their lips and sigh, or it is just one more thing to organise with your money and shoving everything back into your coin purse while trying to sack your groceries and get out of the way of the person with pursed lips and an obvious oxygen-depravation problem.

If you aren't a member of the club, then you feel a complete putz when the cashier raises her eyebrow at you after asking for your card, indicating her assessment of you as one who is obviously not bright enough to figure out that 'it is all for your own good, you know' to be in an in-group and you must join or one day, when they take over the world, you will not be included in their plans.

And the people behind sigh.

Today, I became a club member at Boots.
It's all for my own good and I'll get outstanding perks.