Cycled: Every day since starting work this week.
Smoked: Nothing since Jan 1st, when I disposed of my remaining fags by burning them (and inhaling the fumes.)
Eaten: Fruit, Veg, meat, and almost zero crap.
Swam: 12 lengths so far. Baby steps.... baby steps.
Drank: Water, some tea, a coffee.
I am now back at home having done a day's work and cycled with steely determination in the wind and rain. I am about to shower and go back into Central London to meet up with my mate Rob, back in Britain for a brief catch-up after emigrating to Sweden last year.
Will I booze?
I hope not.
Will I smoke?
Not if I can help it.
Will being in the midst of half a dozen pissheads help?
In the three days of 2008 spent back at work with no boss to help carry the load, I've decided I simply have to get a better job very very quickly.
So I've spent all day day-dreaming about a holiday.
In a couple of months, I may or may not pay a quick visit to Philadelphia to hang out with Large Northern Flatmate's old chum, Greencard Danny. I may then "nip over" to Boston to see Haggis (Oh, hello Haggis - may I see you in Boston?), and perchance have a cheeky beer and make him ponder the meaning of hell. I could of course then 'duck down' to New York, catch up with my mate Yank Jeff, and - oh - possibly look up my lovely ex-American Ladyfriend, as I think we'd both like to say hello.
This time I won't be crashing at hers, though. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to seeing her briefly, then moving on like a square-jawed hero.
Failing that, I could contact ex-Fuckbuddy Michelle who also lives in NY, to see if she's single and very, very desperate.
Jesus Christ. I may as well throw £800 out of the window now, look at naked women on the internet through binoculars, and heatbutt my bedside table for a week.