The many forms of love

So firstly, (and I want you guys to know before I break it to Ginger Beard), I've fallen in love. And not in the traditional sense, with a human being, but in a kind of new agey way, with their blog.

I can't even remember how I met their blog, but that's how love works; it smacks you BAM in the face, and you're a complete mess.

Will Ginger Beard feel a sense of all consuming rage, mixed with unbridled confusion, that I can so easily replace him with a series of hilarious posts?

Probably.

But as Alanis Morisette once said, "You live,  and then you bloody learn" (or something very similar).

If I had plans tonight, I'd cancel them, just to spend more time with this blog. And much like it is for loved up couples, who can recount the very moment when they 'just knew', I recognise mine. It was upon spotting that a pie chart (entitled 'My wishes' )  involved a segment labelled, 'That I had Jessie's girl.'

And if you don't understand that reference it's okay, because that means it's special for me.

And if you do understand that reference, and have also fallen in love with this blog, from a mere quote, let's get together and start a support group, ideally in London, but I guess we can work out the finer details at a later date.

I'm not ready to share it with you yet! I think this stems from the relationship my brother and I had growing up. Whenever one of us accrued something that the other wanted, we broke it. And even though he never reads this, Lee, I'd like to take the time to apologise for ripping up your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles posters. Because although the cellotape went some way towards improving things, those little heroes in half shells never looked quite right again.

ANYWAY

I also took a circuits class for the first time! And when I say 'class', I mean that a colleague of mine, who is also a personal trainer, and refers to himself as 'The Smiling Assassin', and two other people who believed things would be okay, forced ourselves into odd and uncomfortable poses in the park outside our office.

Things were not looking too bright for me, as later that night, at approximately 9pm, I got into bed with a custard Muller Rice, and started to cry.

Ginger Beard: Are you kidding me?

Me: Owwww! Ow! Ow! Owwwwww!

Ginger Beard: Do you think this is an acceptable reaction?

Me: It hurts so bad!

Ginger Beard: You're twenty-six years old.

Me: Help me!

Ginger Beard: Do you need to go to hospital? No? Then stop crying. Right now. Shut it down. Shut it up.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is a small window, into the vast world of psychological abuse I experience each and every day.

If you would like to make a small donation, which can be put towards healing my weeping, emotional wounds, don't be shy.