I would love to write something incredibly profound for my very first entry on my very first blog, but...

Welcome to my blog! I would love to write something incredibly profound for my very first entry on my very first blog, but, after a few glasses of wine, whilst trying to read a paper on Tacitus, with crap commercial tv on in the background, I am lowering my standards and aiming for no spelling mistakes. That and a semblance of cohesion (which would probably be better achieved with shorter sentences...)

It is late. Way too late for me, who made a deal with myself to be up and exercising at 6am. Despite what the last two sentences suggest, blogging instead of sleeping is not my way of getting out of exercise. Nup, way more ridiculously complex than that. See, I really want to be up and exercising at 6am, and I will be. As a single mother of three very young children, it is incredibly rare that I get that luxury. I also really want to be sleeping at this late hour. Repeat sentence before last. Early morning is my favourite time of the day, I love the quietness. I also love the clarity early morning exercise brings. I get a little anxious when my kids spend a couple of nights with their father, and, in looking for positive aspects in the situation for myself, I think about how I get to go for a run or a swim or a bike ride or even to the gym at 5 or 6am. Yet, not having my kids in our house for a couple of nights throws me so much, I end up staying up too late, pretending I am productively studying whilst the company of crap tv distracts me, becoming sooo tired I find it difficult to even take myself off to bed... Ironic, huh?

But, off to bed now. I can still get five hours sleep, do the morning body-is-my-temple thingy, bit of solid work, feel holier-than-my-usual-self, and thus provide adequate justification for the afternoon grumpiness followed by the early evening red wine and late evening sloth...