It’s no good. Well, it’s quite good, because I am going to HAVE to buy some new clothes. I never thought I would be able to say this, but they’re all beginning to just hang off me. It’s been a while now since I have needed to zip or unzip a pair of jeans or trousers – they simple pull on and off like giant galloshes – sheer willpower and a large waist-to-hip ratio (i.e. a big bum) mean the stay up. Just. All this, coupled with the recent wardrobe de-clutter and the fact that Mark commented on my ‘Clown Trousers’ this morning makes me thankful that it’s late night shopping night at West Quay tonight and that it was payday this week. Not that I need an excuse to shop. Ever.
This is not bad going, especially as the treadmill is not only folded up in the corner of the spare bedroom, but also a bit dusty and clothes-strewn. Maybe even rusty. I’ve done my best to stop it peeping through the winter coats and scarves piled high on top of it and giving me an evil look every time I walk by. If it does dare to taunt me though I will just cough and mutter ‘ebay’ under my breath, that should shut it up. Walking on a treadmill is the singlemost deathly-dull thing to do in the whole wide world. It was a manual one too, so you had to cling on for dear life whilst using it or you’d fly off the end! I had wild notions of being able to multi-task whilst jogging along, pehaps write a shopping list or read a book. How naive!
So, the spare room has gone from being dressing-room/storage-dump/gym, to being dressing-room/storage-dump/studio. The sort of studio where I am hoping to rekindle some of the artistic sparks that are hopefully still dormant inside me and haven’t totally been extinguished by years of working, albeit in the design industry, “for the man”. Don’t get me wrong, I love the work I do, I get to play with Photoshop and design web sites all day, but if you believe that involves a continuous inner dialogue with your artistic muse, then you’re living in the heady, exciting, promised-land that I was in before I started this caper. But blah-blah, ignore that self-indulgent stuff, what I am trying to say is that I am about to get arty and/or crafty even, and I think I’m going to like it!
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