Monday, 29 November 2010

Excess Baggage

So, it’s Monday night and I’ve just over indulged on homemade stew, Frazzles, Milka and a rather lovely Californian Red. I am feeling bloated. Even though I have a stinking cold as an excuse, I am well overdue a trip to the gym. And my jeans are starting to notice.
So, tomorrow, my friends, I will go to Body Balance. At seven. In the morning. Yes, you read that right. Extreme though it may sound, it acts as quite a nice start to the second day of a working week five days too long. Yes, it needs to be done.
There is only one small problem, aside from crawling out of bed hours before your average milkman. My bags. No, not even the ones under my eyes. You see, after a morning session at the gym, I have to carry my gym kit around with me for the rest of the day, along with my laptop and day-to-day work bag, filled to the brim with diary, note book, a small selection from Boots the chemists and my latest book club challenge to name but a few.
In normal circumstances this wouldn’t be too much of a problem. On most Tuesdays I head to the office and dump my smelly trainers and make up selection under my desk, but tomorrow I have a meeting at another office, followed by two others in swift succession. Which means my pongy footwear will literally be following me around all day. Niiice.
Of course, if I had a car, this wouldn’t be a problem. I would just throw the offending article into the boot and fumigate with Febreeze on my return home. But, being a Londoner, I don’t have that luxury. I just hope that the smell doesn’t permeate through the lining on my Roxy rucksack.
Then, of course, I have to explain my appearance to everyone, which quite honestly rivals that of your average bag lady. No, I don’t want to sleep in your doorway, I just want to attend the meeting on the second floor please. Embarrassing doesn’t even come close, especially as I try to squeeze my cargo onto an overcrowded rush hour tube.
But, you know what? I’m past caring. So what if my spine is completely misaligned after a day of lugging my life around with me all day? Who cares if I get a few dirty looks on the tube? I am a woman on the go and I don’t have time to worry about people’s reaction when I fall over my cotton carrier bag as I disembark off the escalator at Kings Cross on my way to another Pilates class. At the end of the day, I have a job to do, a social life to keep and a body to work out, and not a lot of time to do it all in. So if you don’t like it I suggest you hire me a limo and get out of my way before I accidentally take you out with an innocent swing of my laptop case.
You have been warned.

1 comment:

  1. I know how you feel. The northern line of a morning does not look favourably upon those who need to take stuff with them. As if I wouldn't travel by any other means if I could (sometimes walking to work seems preferable!)