From the cliff edge of death

So....

The woman whose cats I've been stealing, caught me doing it.

I opened the door of my flat to let them out, and she was going into hers. I didn't make it weird. I just said, 'Morning!' and fled. It was 6pm.

I didn't see either cat for five days.

Then I saw Salem (I named him), and he ran away petrified. I can only assume she's been showing him pictures of my face, and then slapping him, in some fucked up 'Pavlov's Dogs' approach.

If your thinking this blog is about cats, it's really not. I hardly ever write about cats.

ALSO

I decided on Friday night, to go for a run in the snow at 8am the next day. The reason being, that after two weeks of Resolution keeping, I am now indestructible. My good friend (let's call him Thomas, for that is his name), told me that I was an idiot, who would fall over and hurt myself.

I really showed him, when I fell over and hurt myself.

It was alright in the end. But just not the first bit, when I lay screaming, demanding an ambulance.

I knew that I'd broken my ankle.

So you can imagine my surprise, when five minutes later I was walking fine! What a miracle!

THANKS FOR CURSING ME THOMAS, YOU INCREDIBLY TALENTED WITCH.

Then right, and you're not going to beeellliiieevve this one, last night, three teenagers tried to kill me.

There's a steep alley way leading up to my flat from the main road, which I've affectionately named 'Death Alley' (because it's a perfectly logical place to get stabbed. So much so, that as soon as the knife was in, you'd have to admit you'd been asking for it).

So I was carefully making my way up, when I heard a whooshing noise from above, shortly followed by a chorus of 'Hit her!'. I looked up. A sledge was coming for me, loaded with morons,  like a black panther after a giselle (I'm just trying to bring the story to life for you). I pressed my back against the wall. They turned the lip of the sledge to the wall. That's right fellow reader! They were trying to mow me down!

With Olympian-esque speed, I ran in front of it to the other side, as all three of the scumbags zoomed past, scraping themselves against the brick.

Well I was a mess.

I got home, and made myself a fruit tea, reminiscing about the Great Snowball Fight of 2010, which for those of you who don't remember, is where I took on, and defeated a group of children (Please see blog entitled, 'The Rutter - 1 The Little Shits - 0')

I live to see another day, and what a snow covered, pants day it is.

New Year, Same old you.

I don't believe I've ever achieved a New Year's Resolution.

Which is why I've adopted a new approach, which I'm titling, 'The Roll Over'. In essence, if you don't achieve it one year, you have to bash it back on the list for the next.

I shit you not, for the first two weeks of January, I have been loyally following the below:

*Watch less television *Learn to play the guitar *Drink more water *Stop biting your nails *Bring your own lunch into work *Sign up to a charity run *Go for a run four times a week *Floss *Don't drink alcohol for a month *Give up Starbucks *Cook all dinner's from scratch

BOOM

I feel like complete shit.

Mostly it's because I've been to the gym seven times in ten days. Luckily there's a man at the gym, who uses the rower and vocally performs his own porno - which is lovely when you've forgotten your Ipod.

ALSO

I have cats!

By which I've mean I keep stealing someone else's cats!

It started off quite nicely - they'd make a cheeky dash inside the flat, I'd track them down and shoo them out. Until Saturday. On Saturday I let one stay for a day. I think that makes me a cat burglar. I mean, I like me, but I just like me better when I have cats.

On Sunday, a few friends came round, and we got talking about aforementioned animals. And they were all like, 'There's no way they just sit outside your door waiting to come in.' So I opened the front door, and voilà a different cat! How exciting! I only kept that one for three hours - which I think is progress.

Don't look at me like that - like you've never 'borrowed' someone else's stuff. Like you're better than me. We all do things we're not proud of, but the important thing is that we learn from those mistakes.

Every night when I get home, I leave the front door open for a while, hoping to get a cat.

ALSO

My umbrella exploded recently, and hit my mum's car.And the company were all 'Our umbrella's don't usually explode, can you please send a photo?'

A photo?

Like I marked the area out in white chalk and took swabs.

I mean JEEZ. So I gave them a detailed blow-by-blow instead. And as I'm like a PROPER writer, it was rather nice.And then they sent me a new umbrella.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is the one thing that's gone right in my life so far in 2013.

LET'S CELEBRATE!!!

Twee-dle Dee

Now, if I'm honest with myself, I could see it coming.

And you know what the worst thing is?

I let it.

The true realisation smacked me this morning, as I carried my lunch to the fridge:

Grapes (nothing wrong there)

Bread (still no qualms)

But here's where it gets ugly:

Banana Bread. I MADE IT, FROM SCRATCH.

Carrot and Coriander soup. I MADE IT FROM SCRATCH. And not only that, but I made enough to fill four containers, which I then froze. I'd purchased the containers purposely for this reason.

ARE YOU BEING SICK?

I AM

I'M BEING SICK EVERYWHERE.

Ask me what I did at the weekend. Go on, ask me. I trained for the Leeds 10k. I went to Ikea. I hung a picture. I sewed my hood back on my coat. Yes, I made the bread. Yes, I made the frigging soup. I sat around with people singing, I plaited my hair. I researched reasonably priced sheets.

I'd ask for help, but I honestly think it's too late.

It would take something terribly drastic to reverse what I've become. And I don't really fancy downing a bottle of vodka and snorting cocaine at work.

Oh God, what if I start knitting? What if I genuinely get the compulsion to knit?

WHAT IF I MAKE MY OWN JAM? And become a cyclist, recycle my glass bottles, and volunteer?

*Throws up again*