Ain't all that.

So my car is unregistered until the government decides to hand out a nicely sized bonus into my starving bank account just for being as rad as I am. My plan was just to continue driving my car with my fingers, toes, arms and legs crossed for good luck (which led to some very awkward driving) and hope I don't get booked. It worked for a couple of days, until a trip in Marks car to the gym had us pass four normal police cars and one unmarked car!

Needless to say, I'm now finding alternative transport.

Unfortunately, the alternative is by bicycle. So even though it's overcast and feral (not to mention my complete lack of anything resembling fitness) I am riding the 8km or so from my house to work. And I'm leaving an hour before work starts, so hopefully it will take no longer than that. Although I'm sure my exhausted, slumping form seen swerving back and forth across the road, sweat dripping from every part of me as I rock up to work will invoke some sort of sympathy if I am a bit late.

Something tells me that tonights gym visit will be somewhat redundant. Speaking of, I've been going... 4-5 days a week. And, okay, it's working, my body is changing shape. Unfortunately, it's mostly in MY LEGS. I've lost all of my beautiful floppyness in my legs, leaving behind mostly muscle. Again with the unfortunate when you realise how little muscle there is. Therefore, I now have the skinny legs of an akward 14-year-old. As a result, I can only wear jeans in public from now on, until the muscle starts to build.