David Lloyd

Lord, it gets harder to motivate yourself once the evenings start setting in. It's dark when I leave the office and by the time I get to Chorley, I'm in need of a nap. Thus, once again, I grabbed twenty minutes in the car park at David Lloyd, falling asleep whilst worrying that someone would walk past and think there was something wrong with me. 

After that, though, I went in, did my mile in the pool, and then picked up the Minx to take her for dinner at La Rocca. Did I mention before that this - the swim then dinner there - is currently my chief pleasure? 

Of course, it was bonfire night, tonight, but that really doesn't afford me much joy, these days. I still enjoy the sound - actually, I love the sound - but the social and visual aspects of watching the fireworks is no longer that appealing. I don't mean to appear curmudgeonly but you can't get to fifty-two without knowing what you do and don't like. 

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-11.9 kgs
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Reading (voraciously): 'The Silkworm' by Robert Galbraith