What a glorious morning. And no, I’m not referring to the gorgeously bright weather, or the fact that it’s finally Friday. I’m referring to the fact that I actually hit the gym for a while this morning (although it would probably be more accurate to say the gym hit me, flogging me mercilessly like an already dead fish).
Indeed, despite my struggle to run a mere 6kms on the treadmill (unaided as my endeavour was by my inability to escape the screen in front of me showing a rehash of last night’s political “X-Factor”) I emerged from the gym feeling invigorated and slightly less revolting than I have been feeling of late. After dashing home for a quick shower, I hopped on my bicycle, feeling a little like Pollyanna on Prozac, and rode into town to join a friend for coffee. We nabbed two comfy armchairs in the sun and spent the next 45 minutes chatting about:
1) where to live (no tête-à-tête between South African mums living abroad would be complete without the inevitable foray into a fraught discussion of this nature),
2) the upcoming election (and the merits and dangers of a protest vote),
3) stroppy kids (and our vain attempts to dispose of them on eBay) and
4) a little innocent banter about mutual friends.
Once our iced coffees had been downed, I gaily hopped back on my Pollyanna-mobile and was home in 5 minutes.
The reason behind my sheer delight in such a morning? I was CHILD-FREE!!! Thanks to the sweet, young Aussie nanny who looks after J on a Tuesday and Friday morning, thereby granting me the most delicious few hours of freedom..
Long live the Aussie gap year.