What is a tumbleweed that ceases to tumble?

The woman at the gym has confirmed my shin splints, told me I have low blood pressure, and given me a programme that involves machines that I found too complicated to hook myself up to this morning. Which did not help the sensation of being completely out of my depth, teency tiny in a sweaty testosterone-pumping environment. Dumb girl. I just want to be able to run through the gardens again.

I was awake at ten to six, at the gym by 6:30, having a shower at work (and it is the best shower!) by ten to eight, and at my desk quarter of an hour later. But bare foot. I forgot my shoes again. I went out morning tea time with the idea of buying some, and came back with giant baby pink fluffy ugg boots with a generous white trim instead. Wore them for the rest of the day, reaffirming my professionalism to all and sundry around the office, and then to the supermarket this evening where I got a few cute smiles, and a bottle of Merlot to take the edge off what has been a very long week thus far. Like away from home for over 12 hours interacting with people you have to perform for kind of days, on top of my marathon weekend. And work is crazy and going to get crazier because another one of the girls (who I have gotten quite attached to and is off to the UK and trying to convince me I should be going with her) is leaving, and as much as my boss is going on about how grads don't stay long enough, the old fullas they have hired since coming to that realisation don't seem to be coping so well with the pace. Not that I can talk - I'm pooped.

Having signed up to this gym membership for 12 months and by association another 12 months in Wellie has freaked me out a bit and I'm already questioning my ability to hold to my resolution to 'slow down'. I've been 'stable' here for 15 months, which is the longest I've been fixed anywhere since I left home at 18. One weekend in Tauranga with Jake had me talking to a friend who is practising there sussing things out, (he seems to hate it and is making about ten grand less than I am but he gets to tell people he's a real lawyer - so shallow Miss Pix!) I'm just so commitment shy, and work doesn't inspire me at all, but I doubt my motivations for wanting to live a tumble weed existence and trying to reaffirm internally the importance and value of long term goals. Yawn.

Some daft boy handed me a leaflet on the walk home from work tonight that said Mark, Miles and Nick are having a mean party on McKenzie Terrace Friday night. I'm almost tempted to drop by to see what kind of devastation ensues from such an invite. Have a prior business engagement that evening however.....