Decisions, decisions

  You know that I love you, respect you and generally think the world of you but I had a tough choice to make tonight so instead of choosing you, I chose me and I hope you can live with that. And even, in the fullness of time, come to forgive me.

  Actually, it wasn't that hard. After a full day's graft that was more like a day of Crossfit than work, I staggered home, flopped into a bath and managed a few mouthfuls of (delicious) leftovers, before collapsing in front of a film. As a result, this is all you're going to get by way of a blog post.

The scene of the crime

  To keep it food related, as I know that's really why you're here, I'm going to once again sing the praises of leftovers. The simple act of making a bit too much meant that a few days later I could open the fridge and find a fish pie that could reheat while I soaked the day's aches away and eat a proper meal instead of a bowl of cereal and a couple of slices of toast. Admit it cos I know you've been there, and before you say anything, covering the toast in hummus and a slice or two of cucumber does not qualify as a meal. 

  Blimey, as fatigued as I am, I still managed to knock out a few lines so I hope you're not feeling too short changed and rejected. I've one more day of work/Crossfit tomorrow so let's see how my aged body manages. One thing I can be sure of is that whatever fuel I'm filling it with, it's still firing on all cylinders.

Kirk out of breath.

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