Went for a jog. Not just any jog - a real jog. Non-stop for twenty-five minutes. Centennial Park. I took the short route, and jogged all the way home, to the back gate of Mulwarree. My confidence grew exponentially from the time I resisted stopping. It just grew and grew. Next time I'll do the whole of centennial park, no matter how long it takes, baby. The fit, cycling around Liverpool every weekend and up and down the beaches of Wollongong 8 year old that I once was, is making a come back! Next stop, the moon!

I'm so glad it's only a four-day week. I feel nauseous just thinking about going to work.

"Hi this is Liz from Restaurant and Catering, just calling to confirm your place in the RSA course tomorrow at the Illarwarra Master Builders Club, at 9am. Please bring a pen, photo ID, and the course fee of $90."

"Hi this is Liz from Restaurant and Catering, just calling to chase you guys up on the paper work for the awards for excellence which we need either today or tomorrow. You don't know what I'm talking about? You've already sent it in? You don't speak English?"

In fact there was a Chinese girl on the phone who didn't understand what I was saying. I contemplated speaking Chinese, but for some reason, didn't feel like listening to the big hoo-hah about how I could speak it. Time is of the essence.

One day I'll be fifty and regret not trying hard enough to get a real fucking job. And I'll be dying of lung cancer, kicking myself.

I'm currently being inundated with Kisses on RSVP. Sad but true. The guys actually don't seem half bad and I've replied to like three of them. It is good timing, because I have to stop stalking Kuba. There's that little thing called Dignity to consider. Anyway chatting is free on rsvp at the mo, and some guy is chatting with me, showing off about his trip to LA and San Francisco, refering to it as 'San Fran'.

I think I'll do some push-up exercises. I can't postpone the test again.

Love,

Lucky Lizwa.  ¶ 20:30