… or rather, the trouble with my inept slow-arse brand of blogging, is that I spend days and days dithering over an angsty post and by the time I get my words together, I'm in a completely different (non-angsty) frame of mind. So I don't want to publish it because then that slab of derangement will sit at the top of the blog until I get around to writing another one!
I was feeling truly crazy at the start of this week, but I got out of my head by getting into the garden then on the spinning bike. I hacked at the earth with a fork (very theraputic), planted some beetroot seeds, then sweated away to the finale of Biggest Loser Season 11.
Hannah and Olivia have now usurped Tara Costa as my favourite contestants ever. They're sisters, they banter wittily and they're the same age gap as me and my sister Rhi… so I just fell for them bigtime.
When I'm on the bike I love to daydream about being a contestant. It would be vintage Loser with Bob and Jillian. If slimming Black was unavailable, I'd be on Team Purple coz it's probably the best of those lousy colours with my ginger tones. I'd totally do as I was told and I'd never fake-puke into a bucket. I'd flog the Jennie O turkey with a knowing twinkle in my eye. I'd be charming and jovial and inspirational. Except for about one week per month when I'd be a loathsome, whiny twit.
See that's the problem with The Biggest Loser. Unlike blogging, you can't just go AWOL during Crazy Week. Your hormonal rantings are captured by the camera and presented to America! I think I better stick to the blogging.
Image credit: ViralFashion