My stripper name is Carla the insufferable speed freak

Today I have been lying around eating toast and Revels, and reading health and fitness blogs. Also reading a book that I’ll be posting a review of tomorrow – but mostly taking a day out. This is a boring little filler entry, but it turns out that after eight months of doing an entry a week I was genuinely uncomfortable with last week’s entry being four days late, so I need to write something today.

After last weekend’s festival, instead of settling down and relaxing and saving all the Things to Do for this weekend, I found myself with an abundance of energy. I guess dancing for three days will do that. Anyway, waking up at 6am, cleaning, tidying, fixing things, walking the dogs, not getting sleepy ‘til 1am. This reads like one of those terrible ‘A day in the life’ type columns in Stylist magazine or something:

“I wake up at 6am and take time to myself to eat a little caviare and organic yoghurt. Then I take a peaceful walk with my dogs and watch the sun rise before simultaneously doing yoga and checking my email.”

...And then a do a quick bungee jump so that the blood rushes to my head, preparing my brain for a day at the office. It also does wonders for my complexion...

…And then a do a quick bungee jump so that the blood rushes to my head, preparing my brain for a day at the office. It also does wonders for my complexion…

On Thursday night, while Coffee Monster was filming at FrightFest, I took it on myself to rearrange a couple of rooms as a ‘surprise’. By rearrange, I mean completely swap the furniture between two rooms, and sort out clothes and so forth. It was like being on speed – I managed to do the sort of job that I can normally stretch out (and not complete) for an entire weekend in the course of about 4 hours. I have no idea what got into me. Speed. Too much caffeine. Something.  I was like Hulk, hefting a double-bed down the hallway. But without the rage.

Anyway as a consequence of this and running a couple of miles with both dogs that same day, when I tried to get out of bed on Friday, my legs weren’t really working anymore. Really, I hadn’t felt that bad since the day after the marathon. So it’s been a relief that this weekend is film festival (sitting! Good films (so far)! Everyone should see 100 BlOODY ACRES!) and not much else.

Also spent some time yesterday with a friend who’ll be moving to London in a few weeks with his girlfriend. We toasted the finding of a flat over delivered Thai food and episodes of Lead Balloon. This is a friend we’ve known for so long that I don’t have to make an effort to be any kind of hostess. Instead, he rolled up to the flat soaked from the rain to find me just waking up – and was promptly sent back out into the rain to get milk for tea. Which he made because I don’t make it correctly and he’s fussy (love you, J).  I am really looking forward to having him and his other half living within easy visiting distance, rather than only seeing them every few months. For the company, not the tea making. Of course.

Lots and lots and lots of sleeping.

And, finally, a shout-out to the awkward young man who attempted to hit on me using Presidents of the United States of America lyrics (Stranger). Calling me Carla was remarkably obscure, but I appreciate the old-skool reference. I’m sorry I didn’t catch on until about three hours later. And I’m going to assume you meant the comparison nicely and in reference to my hair above anything else, because I think I could pinpoint the moment where you remembered that Carla is also a stripper and forgot your words. A- for effort, son. It was flattering, but terrible.

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