Pat me on the back, I went swimming all on my own. I've been a couple of times with
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cushy recently, but this time I managed to get up at 05:40 (10 min later than I'd hoped) dressed and went swimming. I was in the office by 07:45.
This is a huge step forward; I've been struggling recently with an inability to get up in the mornings. I lie in bed until the last possible minute, and then am on the cusp of being late for work. But for some reason I will get up for swimming if I've planned it all out the night before, put my swimming bag out and put my underwear in the swimming bag. Then when I get up, I put my swimsuit on under my clothes and I'm all good to go. Once I've done all that, I don't wimp out and not go – even, it seems, when I'm not meeting someone.
All in all, I'm pleased with my minor achievement.
In other news…there is no other news. Mr Smelly-Opposite is still smelly and still hasn't done anything about his flat. I don't know why his living without a lock on his front door makes me feel unsafe, but it does.
Oh, I seem to be reading Richard Stevenson's "Donald Strachey" mysteries, but in approximately reverse order. It's a very strange experience to go back in time to pre-AIDS.
I'm so used to thinking post-AIDS that recently when I started a story ("Mexican Heat" by Josh Lanyon and someone else) in which the two male leads had unprotected sex with each other within minutes of meeting, it seemed so stupid and outrageous I couldn’t read on. I'm sure there are people who behave like that, but they're not anyone I'd care to know, not even as characters in a book.
I suppose when I've run out of stuff to read I'll return to that story, and maybe I'll find out there were consequences to that action, but it really made my hair stand on end. Which reminds me re: warnings – the one warning you'll never find is 'the characters in this story all behave like idiots'. And I could so do with it.
