I try to write this blog as though nobody is reading. It's getting harder and harder to achieve this when I know various people who ARE reading it. What's more odd is to find random sentences of my writing posted in other random places on the internet. Given that I wax lyrical about the pointless minutiae of my life, seeing such things quoted out of context is quite alarming... and quite flattering... and amusing... and weird. I'll admit it. I refrain from going into some details and I don't admit everything I'm thinking outright. There's very little talk on here of female company, though surely I must have a few thoughts on the subject? Right? Surely I have desires, maybe even occasional trysts? Maybe not. I guess I focus on some of the pointless detail in order to keep the harsh realities of being me a blur.

Not too much to say about today. A cycle into work. A day in the office. A cycle home. I adjusted the saddle on the bike again. I worried about its crunching gears and the appearance of rust on the chain. I made it home ok. A change of shirt and I was off to a rehearsal. Tap dancing again. It's not as easy as it looks. It looks hard. Then home. Home made soup. Now it's time for bed, since I have an early start tomorrow.

I'm exhausted.

My legs and arse hurt.