Recovery Day

Today I prised myself out of bed about 9, and then realised that I was still utterly shattered, and as it was a Sunday, there wasn't any need to be up this early. Still, today was a momentous day - it was time for our beloved Lila to be returned to us.

Lila has been a part of our lives for a year, and so when she had to go back to her owner before we went away to get married, we felt rather bereft. Having deserted my wife all of last week, I felt a little less guilty knowing that for the next few weeks, whenever I'm gallivanting in Singapore or elsewhere in Asia, she'll have the cat to keep her company. I just hope she doesn't make me surplus to requirements.

Today I did very little; I read the latest copy of Viz online (it's even stranger than reading Great Expectations at 30,000 feet on a computer, that I could be reading smutty comics published in Newcastle, from the other side of the world), then we watched Red again (just as good second time around), and I tried (and failed) to list some junk on ebay that I don't want.

Finally, after a day of doing very little, I rushed about to finish the day off - did 4 kilometres round Victoria Park in short order, uploaded the video of the incredible dancing from Friday night, edited a few photographs from Nova Scotia, and then prepared myself for bed. I ran the fastest I can remember in weeks, if not anywhere near as far as I should have been doing. But hopefully this week I'll spend less time staying up wastefully late arguing the politics of colonialism, and more time getting myself fit for Osaka.

Hopefully.