Just another day...

Hugh, my trainer, messaged me on my mobile phone and said 'come on a fun run in the park with the gang this arv'. 'Arv' = arvo which in turn = afternoon. Afternoon is too long for an Aussie to say hence arvo. Anyway, I looked at the words 'fun' and 'run' and 'gang' and thought ‘group sweating - how pukeable.’ Besides how does one have fun running? I run every morning at the gym for at least 30 minutes. It's not for fun. I'm not built for running. There’s the boob issue - yet it's what I make myself do. I step on the treadmill and ramp it up to running speed and hope to god my shoe laces are tied tight so I don't trip over. Then I sweat a lot, do this regulated breathing thing, keep a vague check on the heart monitor so I'll get an indictor of possible death, hope to god my sports bra holds up under the strain and generally try not to fall down. Does any of that sound like fun? So I declined his offer. He messaged back 'I can make it fun for you.' And the thing is I know he would. When I saw him later in the day he told me how great my legs looked in my navy blue trackie daks. I just rolled my eyes – but he dragged me over to the mirror and pointed out my leg muscles – and damn it he was right. I had stopped looking at myself that intently - but suddenly I realized I have fantastic looking legs because of all this effort. He said he’d like to see me in ‘heels’. I said I’d like to see me rich. One of us is going to miss out.

Speaking of men, I sat and chatted to - let's call him Edward - the payroll guy today. I joined him in his office and folded tax summary thingys into envelopes for a couple of hours. Yes, how exciting is my life? June 30 is end of financial year in Oz. The company I work for has some old fashioned ways which require doing manual stuff like this. Edward wasn't sure he'd get them all folded. Always on for a chat and to waste time...I mean to help out... I sat and folded thingys with him. I like Edward. He has a lot of experience in life and he has a wicked sense of humour. He says the most deliciously evil things and I'm always up to hear them. I like people who require no effort to talk to. They're not difficult to understand and they’re not shocked at anything you say. You can just be yourself. We discussed, as we folded paper, Amarinda books and what women wanted when it came to romance. As far as Edward's concerned that's the riddle of the sands. I pointed out that men can suck badly sometimes and women need the fantasy books provide. After further discussion we decided we were both okay but everyone else was flawed. Pretty simple logic that.

After this excitement I archived things into boxes. I've been putting the job off because I feel you have to be in an archiving mood. This mood never seems to strike me. However I had no room left in the storeroom at work to stash the crap my department collects. I should point out there's only 2 of us in my area. But we take up the storage space of 15. Originally we were told we could have two shelves to store sundry crap on. I don't react well to being 'told' things so we ended up with 9 and a half shelves and it would have been 10 but I didn't want to look pushy. Anyway, I made the effort to clean up our piece of the storeroom making a point to make sure I left a bit of our stuff on all of the shelves we occupied illegally because I don’t want some other bugger coming along trying to share our space. Anyway, I spent the arvo boxing and labelling and spread sheeting the boxes and labels. I have no idea how I didn’t lose consciousness with all the excitement.

Romance writers - exciting lives or what?

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