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Wedding Dress/Cars/Gym
Apr. 22nd, 2012 11:42 amUpdate like an updatey thing.
So, on the wedding front, I have found and ordered my wedding dress. I'm quite happy to classify my time looking through wedding boutiques as some of the most demoralising shopping of my life.
( Read more... )
Doug and I's appaulling luck with cars has struck again. His has been coughing an awful lot over the winter, and we figured it was the battery.
We still figured it was the battery when one morning, regardless of the jump start we tried to give it, etc, it wouldn't start.
Nope, says the tow guy - it's your glow plugs.
Nope, says the garage - the glow plugs test fine; it's the power relays to the plugs, and oh, they've also fried the starter motor.
Here, says I, use my car while I'm off for a long weekend, as yours is a bit fried.
Oops, says Doug, it would appear your car no longer has 5th gear.
Thank you very much for all the custom says the hire car place.
Ah, says the garage. It would appear your 5th gear actually fell off and is lying somewhere down the M4. New gearbox needed.
Buggeritall, says I.
Flo, bless him, doesn't say a word, just gives me that look and lets me sleep in his spare room.
The gearbox is due to be delivered tomorrow morning. We hope - I've only spoken to the guy about it over the phone, and don't have anything down on paper, so I'll be packing another week's worth of clothing today to be taken into Bath by Doug tomorrow to SR if my worst-case-scenario of the gearbox isn't delivered or the garage can't fit it that same day as they promised they would comes true. It's costing me less than a quarter of what a new one would though, so provided it does get here and work, I can't complain too hard...Although I am still going to be broke for quite a while, and our wedding budget has just taken a fairly significant pounding, thanks to the work needing to be done on both cars - this means I might need to rethink things like favors, or entertainment. Or flowers.
*sigh* Fuckitall, really.
I've got a personal trainer at the gym, courtesy of my parents who, I swear, worry about my weight more than I do - after all these years, I've got a lot of practise at not taking it personally.
But yes, had my second session on Friday. Having had my first on Thursday, which was a mistake. In future, there'll be at least a day or so inbetween them, but 2 on the trot might not have been so bad, had I not been handed over to the more 'aggressive' of the trainers they had there, who took one look at the schedule the original dude had drawn up, and made this noise: 'Pfffffft!'
She upped, and in some cases doubled, the number of reps I was expected to do on pretty much everything, and in a lot of them saw I wan't using my hands (or rather, had whatever I was balancing with in some sort of death grip) added curls with freeweights to them.
I was late to work, because the normal 20-min walk from the gym to work took me 35, on account of my legs wouldn't stop wobbling.
Today, in the name of keeping it up, I'm actually considering going for a jog.
Oh, wow, are my feet not going to thank me.
I'm hoping the rest of my body will when we go again on Tuesday, when, with any luck, I won't die quite so hard.
So, on the wedding front, I have found and ordered my wedding dress. I'm quite happy to classify my time looking through wedding boutiques as some of the most demoralising shopping of my life.
( Read more... )
Doug and I's appaulling luck with cars has struck again. His has been coughing an awful lot over the winter, and we figured it was the battery.
We still figured it was the battery when one morning, regardless of the jump start we tried to give it, etc, it wouldn't start.
Nope, says the tow guy - it's your glow plugs.
Nope, says the garage - the glow plugs test fine; it's the power relays to the plugs, and oh, they've also fried the starter motor.
Here, says I, use my car while I'm off for a long weekend, as yours is a bit fried.
Oops, says Doug, it would appear your car no longer has 5th gear.
Thank you very much for all the custom says the hire car place.
Ah, says the garage. It would appear your 5th gear actually fell off and is lying somewhere down the M4. New gearbox needed.
Buggeritall, says I.
Flo, bless him, doesn't say a word, just gives me that look and lets me sleep in his spare room.
The gearbox is due to be delivered tomorrow morning. We hope - I've only spoken to the guy about it over the phone, and don't have anything down on paper, so I'll be packing another week's worth of clothing today to be taken into Bath by Doug tomorrow to SR if my worst-case-scenario of the gearbox isn't delivered or the garage can't fit it that same day as they promised they would comes true. It's costing me less than a quarter of what a new one would though, so provided it does get here and work, I can't complain too hard...Although I am still going to be broke for quite a while, and our wedding budget has just taken a fairly significant pounding, thanks to the work needing to be done on both cars - this means I might need to rethink things like favors, or entertainment. Or flowers.
*sigh* Fuckitall, really.
I've got a personal trainer at the gym, courtesy of my parents who, I swear, worry about my weight more than I do - after all these years, I've got a lot of practise at not taking it personally.
But yes, had my second session on Friday. Having had my first on Thursday, which was a mistake. In future, there'll be at least a day or so inbetween them, but 2 on the trot might not have been so bad, had I not been handed over to the more 'aggressive' of the trainers they had there, who took one look at the schedule the original dude had drawn up, and made this noise: 'Pfffffft!'
She upped, and in some cases doubled, the number of reps I was expected to do on pretty much everything, and in a lot of them saw I wan't using my hands (or rather, had whatever I was balancing with in some sort of death grip) added curls with freeweights to them.
I was late to work, because the normal 20-min walk from the gym to work took me 35, on account of my legs wouldn't stop wobbling.
Today, in the name of keeping it up, I'm actually considering going for a jog.
Oh, wow, are my feet not going to thank me.
I'm hoping the rest of my body will when we go again on Tuesday, when, with any luck, I won't die quite so hard.
