So a very generous friend bought me a Wii for my birthday. It's a video games console, grandad. You have to wave your joystick around and then the characters on screen react with your movements. So it's like exercise at the same time as playing, though you are only really exercising your right forearm, which to be honest is the one part of the body that most video games enthusiasts exercise anyway - you know, I mean by playing with their joystick. And by joystick, I mean penis. Ha ha, I am funny.
I was too hungover most of the day to set the thing up, but this evening I felt human enough to give it a go and it was most enjoyable. It is comforting to realise that being in my 40s hasn't really changed me, and I spent my first Friday night of this decade, jumping around in my living room, waving my arms around, pretending to play tennis or baseball or bowling or boxing.
My right arm became so tired that it was difficult to do anything with it. I was covered in a light, boozy sweat. Hopefully I can stay good on my promise never to go to the gym again. I can see myself getting addicted to this, which probably means I will never do any work again, partly because my arm hurts so much that I doubt I will ever be able to write and though I have had some practise at typing one handed with my left hand.... for some reason, I don't think I'd like to write a whole script like that. And anyway I might get confused and fill the whole thing with things like "Yes that's right, do it that way" and "Mmmmmm, go on" and things like that. Which would only be OK if I start writing a different kind of drama script. Anyway it was a good Friday night. I have 519 more of these until I am 50, so I can afford to waste a few. I have learned nothing.
I also noticed that my lounge carpet had lots of fluff on it, which has sprung up because of me moving my feet around on it whilst I play false sports.
Life is the same at 40, don't believe anything that anyone else tells you.
