I’m dreaming of the weekend again and it’s only Monday. Phew. I’ve crammed lots into today. No where near as much done as I NEEDED to get done. I am off to Sydney on Wednesday for the Kidspot Top 50 bloggers party. I’m going to be partying with some of my blog besties and idols. Wooot. Before then I have a list of things to do a MILE long. Work stuff. Life stuff. Stuff so my Hubby won’t burn the house down. And even more stuff to replenish the sad, sad state of affairs in my bank account.

And the weight of that is in a lot of ways weighing me down. But I got up this morning and went to the gym anyway. This amazing thing has started to occur. I love to go to the gym. The first thing I wanted to do on Saturday was get up and spend some time on the treadmill. Shaking the dull hang over was the primary goal. When I walked out the door, I felt great. And seriously hungry.

Today at the gym, I was jogging, lifting, pressing and crunching. I was grinning. Puffing and sucking in the biggest breathes I could. But grinning. It feels like a whole new era for me. Perhaps in my thirties I’ll be a fully fledged gym bunny? Can you imagine..? It seems like a remote prospect at the moment. But there’s a glimmer there. A tiny flame that has been lit. Oh yeah, and today, my sister booked us three personal training sessions. Eeeek.

I wonder if the motel has a gym?

Hold on. What was this post about again? Something about weekends and missing them terribly I think. Good luck figuring THAT one out.

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