Worn out

It is only Saturday mid-afternoon and I feel drained.

We were up early and out of the house for an 09.00 appointment at Relate (I feel that the counsellor wanted us to explore sordid sexual details, which weren’t forthcoming. Oh no baby. We keep those things to ourselves!). As you would expect from the pair of us we were open and honest and good-natured.

Afterwards we braved the freezing gusts of blusterry galedom, walked in to the centre of Oxford and headed straight for a Latte.

What planet are people from? Those people. The girls walking around in leggings and vests with hideously large and ineffective belts slung around their waists?

Or those people, the ones in short skirts and strappy tops that show far too much cleavage when the temperature is a balmy (not!) six degrees?

I’m asking where these people come from because there were hundreds of them walking around the centre of Oxford today, all dressed as if they’d just jetted in from Bermuda. It wasn’t just the girls. Boys in shorts and t-shirts too. WTF?

Anyway, we warmed our hands and insides and cake may have been partaken.

Ahem.

Then we browsed HMV and bookshops and the shopping arcades and then we met Jaimie, a guy who wants to contribute to the podcast.

This makes two people, Jaimie and Will, who have volunteered to review, interview and record for This Reality Podcast. I’m very excited by their participation, drive and enthusiasm.

More hot drinks followed and then we said goodbye to Jaime and headed home for cuddles and snogs and a little fondling on the couch. This may have been followed by a doze on my part.

And now I have to get changed, go up to the yard and show Philippa how to drive my lorry because I said she could borrow it next weekend.

And then I shall ride the Vinster.

Then home again.

On the face of it I have done nothing today – except been out for six hours. But I am completely washed out.