I'm feeling very virtuous because I've just been swimming at the gym across the road. It was ok - I think I could do it regularly. I need something because my morning walk isn't quite enough to counteract the sitting and eating I do for the rest of the day, and an evening swim is quite pleasant - the sort of thing I might do on holiday. I hope I can stick with it because pretty much any other form of gym-type exercise makes me psychotically bored and unhappy. I just don't know how people do it. At Uni, I tried to do the running machine for only ten minutes in a session, and even that was torture. I couldn't handle the fact that my brain has got nothing to do except think about the fact that my body is in slight to moderate pain, so I thought the next thing was to take my minidisc player along so I could listen to music. The problem then was that I'd get all fussy about what song I listened to, and jogging along in pain with a song in my ears that I didn't want to listen to and couldn't get rid of was even worse than nothing, so I'd be scrabbling at the player to try and change track and nearly lose my balance and lurch off the back of the treadmill into some beefcake lifting weights behind me. The other thing is that there's a small holding bay thing at the front of the treadmill where you can stash your water bottle or music player within easy reach. Problem is, the constant bumping of the treadmill causes the minidisc to skip, which is also infuriating, and so I got to a point where I take a special little hand towel to the gym with me so I can use it as a little cushion for the minidisc to stop it skipping, which is, frankly, madness. + 0 - 0 | § ¶And That, Your Honour, Is The Truth
My mum was in court today, charged with speeding offences. I'm officially the child of a convict. She managed to get away with a fine, even though technically she should be banned, because she pleaded hardship (single parent, needs car to work, oh woe is me, violins etc). Anyway, she said it was very surreal - you're made to stand in the dock, which is glassed off (so you can't spit at the judge?), and they make you swear on the bible - "I do solemly swear, in the name of God, to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth". Rough translation: "I promise, in the name of a non-specific deity in which I do not believe, that I won't lie to you." Interestingly, they don't even make you swear on your own word, which to an athiest surely would mean more than swearing in the name of a God they don't believe in? And surely the fact that you've ended up in court in the first place suggests that you might not be the most completely honest and law-abiding of people in the first place? Wood? Trees? Anyway. GO British legal system.