Swimming Lesson #11

After an awful lot of weeks off, I went back to Swish today to start another set of lessons. As always, starting again is more challenging than you think: you’re confronted by the fact that you’re not as good as you imagine you are.

But this is at least an opportunity to improve.
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Lost in transit once more

I got a taxi to the airport with plenty of time to spare, assuming there’d be all kinds of extra hassle getting through security. I was wrong; from arriving curbside to dropping off my bags took less than five minutes. Of course, if I’d left a bit later I might have remembered to pack my jacket, or my power meter, or one of the other things I’m going to discover I forgot when I disembark at the end of my travels. Ah well, there are always credit cards.
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Wet at both ends

I got soaked walking to work, and I got soaked walking home. I took my computer home last night, as part of my continuing love/hate relationship with The People’s Favourite Statistical Workbench, R. I walked blithely almost all the way to the office this morning when, as I mused on how nice it was not to be heavily laden on my commute, I remembered I’d left my laptop on the sofa. Back I went, then trudged with an ever-increasingly heavy Dell back to the office. I swear it didn’t weigh this much when I started using it; it must be the weight of all the extra data on the hard drive.

The extra twenty minutes walk this morning left me with a shirt so sweaty it was practically transparent. Expecting this, I’d plucked a second shirt from the wardrobe before making my second attempt at commuting, but I’d sweat so much that my second shirt was damp even before I started wearing it. And our air conditioning, over zealous as ever, forced me to leave a meeting when I could no longer distinguish shivering from convulsions.

Then this evening it rained, and I’d forgotten my umbrella.

Life has settled into a routine; I get home, get the kids to bed, go for a very slow run (it’s beginning to get very boring to run this slowly, which I guess will motivate me to go faster), come home again, drink some milk, walk to the supermarket to cool off and buy more milk, comr home again, pass out. So it was and will be tonight.

A gap in my memory

A week after my wife’s birthday, we did something. I’m not entirely sure what, but I wrote about it. And then something went wrong and I lost the entry, and I’ve now got no memory, less than 9 days later, about what I was up to. This is a bit worrying, not least because it suggests that my blog has replaced my long term memory, but it’s also quite good, because it suggests that my blog has replaced my long term memory.

At least my short term memory isn’t affected.

Or my short term memory.

(See what I did there?)

Forgetting Another Mother’s Day

Today was the North American Mother’s Day. This is different to British Mother’s Day, and my wife was quite irate that I’d managed to forget both of them, especially what with my prodigious ability to remember things. To be fair, I’m not a North American, my wife isn’t British and she’s not my mother either, so I don’t know what my duties are meant to be here. Frankly, La Serpiente Aquatica Negra, being both British and Canadian, is the one at fault here. I’m going to wake her up tonight and tell her that in future, she needs to do more work to celebrate her mother’s day(s). By the time she’s two and a half, she should be taking full responsibility for this kind of thing.
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Frightening yourself

What’s the word for the particular heart-stopping terror induced by the realization that you’ve managed to lose your wallet, containing all the cash you needed for a week, and all the cash you needed for the next country you’re going to, plus your bank cards, your credit card, the ID cards for both the country you’re in and the country you’ve just come from, and the transit pass that you need to get home to at least tell your wife you’ve lost all those things?
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Happy Anniversary

At about five this afternoon, my wife sent me a message on Skype, asking if I wanted to go out for dinner. I gave this some thought: there’s plenty of stuff in the fridge, and although I was paid less than a week ago, we’re trying to economise, what with having a newborn to care for and all. Then again, I haven’t treated my wife to dinner for a little while (if you don’t count buying her an ice cream while I was utterly plastered on Friday night), and, lovable though our daughter is, everyone deserves to get out of the house every so often.

It wasn’t until half an hour or so later, when I received a congratulatory email from my sister, that I realized it was two years ago today that I’d married my wife, and in the whirlwind of births, birthdays and booze it had completely slipped my mind. Whoops.
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