I don't think I've got yellow fever yet. I am feeling fine, apart from having slightly achey legs, which I think is probably the result of playing tennis yesterday, rather than my injections. I haven't played tennis for a couple of months so maybe my leg based tennis muscles have not had a work out in all the other exercise I have been doing. More likely though I am just getting old. Achey legs seems to eb pretty much the first sign from everyone I have talked to. This is not on. Because I am still 21 until I am 40 (less than 10 months away - very scary when I think about it, so I don't think about it).
On the positive side, away from my old achey calf muscles, the weight is continuing to shift and my belt buckle has moved up almost two notches since the beginning of the month. I still haven't had an alcoholic drink since Edinburgh, though I have to say I am starting to miss it now and may allow myself a couple of glasses of wine when I am out for dinner this week. We'll see. Be good to get to the end of the month, but woudl equally be good to be able to drink in moderation and not have to get pissed, which is what causes the problems. With two more episodes of TWTTIN to write and perform, as well as four Banters and a rewrite on Double Act in the next 13 days I think I am going to have to be pretty good. My oh my I think I will have earned the holiday if I do all that.
I managed to have a swim today despite the yellow fever and the achey legs and the achey arm from the jabs. Holmes Place is about to get taken over by Virgin and I sense that they don't really care about repairing the little things anymore and will leave it up to Richard Branston. I hope he doesn't feel it necessary to rip out the new showers and stuff that only got put in about three months ago. But I suspect he will and replace it with a gigantic tiled representation of his face, all smeared with the pickle that made him his fortune.
I wonder if he might close this gym down. He's got one quite near in Acton and the Hammersmith Holmes Place is hardly a flagship gym. That's all the more noticeable having spent a month in the much more impressive Edinburgh one. If I was Richard Branston I would just buy all the gyms and then turn them into private gyms that only I could use. They would still have all the staff and all the machines, but only I would be allowed to go in there. And they would be exta dispensers in all the showers with free Branston pickle in them, for a post work out treat. Then wherever Branston was in the world he could still go and use a gym without being bothered by people asking him about pickle and stuff.
That's what I'd do. But then I probably wouldn't be very good at being a billionaire businessman.
OK, slow news day. Twenty days without booze and counting!
