firstly. . .

I go see the Head Doctor; we talk about stuff - he asks lots of questions, I talk a bit. . .

one of the things we talk about is the notion of exercise. . . now, I'm no gym bunny (as you might have guessed - I'd rather sit and write in some of my spare time) but I know I need some more exercise

OK, "some" exercise

ho hum

he said he recommend my joining a spa! (the man seems to think I'm made of money; either that, or he knows more about XCH's bank balance than I do)

he seems to think I need to pamper myself (because noone else is), have treats (cos I don't give myself enough of them)(well, I do this and I guess that is about it, apart from snuggling with POVS on the sofa while they watch Malcolm In The Middle and educational stuff on National Geographic and The History Channel), indulge myself (because I spend so much time beating myself up)

one might ask how well this man knows me how often he listens inbetween the lines of what I say and what he reads into the invisible writing on my walls. . .

he said banks of machines and muscle-bound men and skinny women with eating disorders weren't the kind of people I should be surrounding myself with and that I would benefit from going somewhere a couple of times a week where I could do a little bit of exercise and then have a leisurely swim and then sit in a jacuzzi and then have a steam and then a massage (he recommended aromatherapy, because it smells nice) and then go sit somewhere comfy and read the paper while drinking a cup of coffee* in a leisurely fashion. . .

(*he didn't mention the obligatory fag
that goes with the java,
perhaps he does know me better than I think
and has my health
- as well as my head -
at heart after all)

I said that that sounded like a heavenly way to spend an afternoon (the kind of heaven I can't quite afford!)

I'll betcha XCH's private health care policy, which covers the visits to the Head Doctor, doesn't cover gym membership. . . well, I know it doesn't



secondly. . .

the Head Doctor doesn't want to see me again! I've been chucked!



thirdly. . .

I've just booked my removal service for the transition to the new abode. . .



it really is going to happen - I'm not sure how I feel about that. . .


sorrow11 said...

sounds rather like leaping
or being shoved.
deep breath
you CAN do this.
Can you see me doing my best cheerleader impression?
all of me jumping up and down
yelling and waving my arms
Go Go Go
Do Do Do
Yes Yes YEs...
scary isn't it?

craig andrew said...

It's kind of funny, but when I walk and ride my bicycle to my local pub - which is about 3 miles away - about twice a week, most people believe that it is because I lost my license. But the reality is that it is my guarantee that I get at least a couple of days of exercise a week, because I can't do the gym thing either.

Why not find a nice coffee shop - preferably in a book store - that is a few miles away and make getting there a couple time a week your exercise?


Rimshot said...

If I were you, I wouldn't concern myself with gyms and such until after the move is complete. Then you can get your bearings and decide the best course of action in the physical exertion regard.

But I'm not you, so there ya go.

I, still, ♥ the views said...


are you on my wavelength or what!?!?!

shot I told him I was going to move first, and then get my head around it. . .

craig he suggested walking as a cheaper alternative to the gym, and I'd pretty much decided I should walk to somewhere, do something (probably including coffee), then walk back again

(first walk might have to be to a shoe shop, as I don't think I could get up a good pace in my clogs!)

sorrow perhaps I should take up cheerleading? I'd get to jump about (to music!) and might meet some fun women and some sporty guys. . .

yes, it is scary - but scary doesn't scare me so much anymore!


*drum roll and trumpet blast*

Gordie said...

Wow! Big, good, lovely, positive vibes in this post!

Do you have a park nearby, that you could ride a bicycle round?

Or perhaps try roller-skates? (My friend Gemma used to find roller-skating in Hyde Park was a great way to meet men.)

Mel said...

Well, congratulations are in order, ma'am!

On graduating the doc--and on the forward moment towards the new home.'s happening. How cool is that?
Bit scary, but just a bit.
Bit sad....but this too, shall pass.
Bit--yikes....that means packing again.

Party first--pack later!
k...I might have a slight problem with priorities, today.

And walk/rollerblade sounds fun!
But then so does the spa.
Ya think he could, as one final gesture of medical practice, write a script with that spa order?
It's be a fun one to argue!
And what if ya WON?!

dinahmow said...

Haawaay the lads!
All quite right, of course.
And damn! if I was still up over there and not down under here I'd rather like a consult with that head man...
Congrats all round. See you at the party!

katherine. said...

well if the doctor ordered it...the health care should cover it...right?

good luck with the move...packing is easy for is the unpacking which I hate...

Steg said...

As I'm discovering, the moving process in itself will be exercise enough for a while.

If the head doctor doesn't want to see you again that can only be a good thing. Unless you've got a crush on him, of course....

I haven't been to a party in...ooh, ages! I promise to be on my best behaviour and have my "gentleman" head on.

mig bardsley said...

Oh I must have had a blogout.
I thought I said swimming is nice and water is good and coffee afterwards, with a pleasant walk in between somewhere and a peaceful fag, is best of all.
Must be a way to combine things - Oh and you can always go home and do the aromatherapy in the comfort of your own bath.

Well I've said it now :)