I didn't get much sleep on Sunday night. I'd put a convector heating near the wall with the damp in, so it might get warm, excude some moisture, make the room more humid and, thus, give the dehumidifier a purpose in life - to, perhaps, take the humidity and turn it into water in a bucket. This is how I spend my weekends now is it? Thinking about humidity of plaster!? Brill!
Thing is. I had heard, from the guy who suggested I get the dehumidifier, that these things can pull many many litres of water out of the air. I'd seen nothing more than a piddle in a bucket, but perhaps the convector heater was going to unlock my moisture exuding dreams!? I was worried that I might come downstairs to a flooded kitchen.
I remember waking up in the middle of the night, worried that it may have overflowed, going downstairs to check, to find all of the things in the kitchen swept across the room by the deluge of water that had been drawn from the atmosphere. There was water everywhere. It had been of almost tidal proportions. I remembered that happening. As though it had happened. As though it hadn't just been the weird dreams of an overactive overwrought mind.
Nothing had gone wrong. Just a continued piddle. Actually, a piddle is about the only thing that was going wrong. Piddling has been a problem. Whether it's been the dehumidifier pulling a piddle of water from the plaster, or the fact that I've been suffering some sort of piddle infection, I've not been happy with the state of play on the piddling front. When I woke from my dream I was bothered by an overwhelming need to piddle - except I didn't need to go really; it was just my slight malady lying to me. Perhaps that was the real cause of the dream. Something's up with the water!
So, yesterday was a tiring day as a result of the lack of sleep, the going to work, the driving to the gig (I found a cracking route to the M40 which seems to be traffic free at gig times), the doing of the gig and the coming home. I managed to get some food into me on the return journey and that must have helped.
Food was, of course, on my mind. It's been on my mind a lot lately. Food and wee. Food, wee and DIY. Oh, and general other things which don't necessarily get described in full on here. They're bound to be irrelevant, though.
In Edinburgh, keeping healthy and losing weight is an easy thing to do. Loads of activity comes as part of the fun, and there's a ready supply of food which is healthy enough to have no long-lasting effect on the system when eaten. Don't get me wrong, there are chips enough to die for - literally. That sentence didn't make a huge amount of sense. You get the idea. I could have pigged out in Edinburgh, as I did in 2004, nearly poisoning myself completely in the process, or I could have, as I did the last two years, eaten quite pleasantly and come back at least as healthy as I went, if not healthier.
This year was probably my healthiest Fringe, with smoothies galore. Sure, I partook of one fried breakfast, on the last morning, and sure I didn't even enjoy it, but I came back from my Fringe festival participation some 9 pounds lighter than when I went. I have since upgraded that weightloss to 12 pounds. I was weighed today and have lost a pound since last week's loss of 2 pounds. Losing weight post-Fringe may be more difficult.
In Fringes 2005 and 2006, I had promised my girlfriend that I would eat healthily. To welch on that promise would have made me a bad boyfriend. I wasn't a bad boyfriend. Not in that respect, at least. This year I promised myself. I didn't let myself down.
Now I'm in the post-Fringe blues period. There are motorway service stations, work cafes and other influences that can divert me from healthiness. In addition, I have just managed to go out with different friends for meals some 4 nights out of the last 7!
Getting weighed today wasn't entirely a hopeful experience. On the postive front, I had done a reasonable amount of exercise over the course of the week, including my cycle ride to pick up my car, along with a few walks to and from the station. I think that perhaps I had lost more weight, but went to the scales with a heavy hearted feeling that might have added an extra pound or so on.
Still, the loss of a pound this week is a triumph.
I don't remember how low my weight got in 2003 when I hit my last low weight. I suspect that I weighed then what I weigh now. If I were to lose weight consistently for another month or so, I might even drop a trouser size.
I think I want to be slimmer and healthier. The effort of achieving it may prove too much. I'm running on empty a lot at the moment. Having said that, my appetite has also ebbed a fair bit. I suppose I'll find out. I've been here before and there are no guarantees of where you go next.
In other news, I got home, did some angle grinding to remove some paint from my exterior wall (and also to shape the bricks into nice shaved shapes), got a headache, showed the plumber the heating work I want him to do, and then got some food. An exciting night at Ashley Towers.
Thing is. I had heard, from the guy who suggested I get the dehumidifier, that these things can pull many many litres of water out of the air. I'd seen nothing more than a piddle in a bucket, but perhaps the convector heater was going to unlock my moisture exuding dreams!? I was worried that I might come downstairs to a flooded kitchen.
I remember waking up in the middle of the night, worried that it may have overflowed, going downstairs to check, to find all of the things in the kitchen swept across the room by the deluge of water that had been drawn from the atmosphere. There was water everywhere. It had been of almost tidal proportions. I remembered that happening. As though it had happened. As though it hadn't just been the weird dreams of an overactive overwrought mind.
Nothing had gone wrong. Just a continued piddle. Actually, a piddle is about the only thing that was going wrong. Piddling has been a problem. Whether it's been the dehumidifier pulling a piddle of water from the plaster, or the fact that I've been suffering some sort of piddle infection, I've not been happy with the state of play on the piddling front. When I woke from my dream I was bothered by an overwhelming need to piddle - except I didn't need to go really; it was just my slight malady lying to me. Perhaps that was the real cause of the dream. Something's up with the water!
So, yesterday was a tiring day as a result of the lack of sleep, the going to work, the driving to the gig (I found a cracking route to the M40 which seems to be traffic free at gig times), the doing of the gig and the coming home. I managed to get some food into me on the return journey and that must have helped.
Food was, of course, on my mind. It's been on my mind a lot lately. Food and wee. Food, wee and DIY. Oh, and general other things which don't necessarily get described in full on here. They're bound to be irrelevant, though.
In Edinburgh, keeping healthy and losing weight is an easy thing to do. Loads of activity comes as part of the fun, and there's a ready supply of food which is healthy enough to have no long-lasting effect on the system when eaten. Don't get me wrong, there are chips enough to die for - literally. That sentence didn't make a huge amount of sense. You get the idea. I could have pigged out in Edinburgh, as I did in 2004, nearly poisoning myself completely in the process, or I could have, as I did the last two years, eaten quite pleasantly and come back at least as healthy as I went, if not healthier.
This year was probably my healthiest Fringe, with smoothies galore. Sure, I partook of one fried breakfast, on the last morning, and sure I didn't even enjoy it, but I came back from my Fringe festival participation some 9 pounds lighter than when I went. I have since upgraded that weightloss to 12 pounds. I was weighed today and have lost a pound since last week's loss of 2 pounds. Losing weight post-Fringe may be more difficult.
In Fringes 2005 and 2006, I had promised my girlfriend that I would eat healthily. To welch on that promise would have made me a bad boyfriend. I wasn't a bad boyfriend. Not in that respect, at least. This year I promised myself. I didn't let myself down.
Now I'm in the post-Fringe blues period. There are motorway service stations, work cafes and other influences that can divert me from healthiness. In addition, I have just managed to go out with different friends for meals some 4 nights out of the last 7!
Getting weighed today wasn't entirely a hopeful experience. On the postive front, I had done a reasonable amount of exercise over the course of the week, including my cycle ride to pick up my car, along with a few walks to and from the station. I think that perhaps I had lost more weight, but went to the scales with a heavy hearted feeling that might have added an extra pound or so on.
Still, the loss of a pound this week is a triumph.
I don't remember how low my weight got in 2003 when I hit my last low weight. I suspect that I weighed then what I weigh now. If I were to lose weight consistently for another month or so, I might even drop a trouser size.
I think I want to be slimmer and healthier. The effort of achieving it may prove too much. I'm running on empty a lot at the moment. Having said that, my appetite has also ebbed a fair bit. I suppose I'll find out. I've been here before and there are no guarantees of where you go next.
In other news, I got home, did some angle grinding to remove some paint from my exterior wall (and also to shape the bricks into nice shaved shapes), got a headache, showed the plumber the heating work I want him to do, and then got some food. An exciting night at Ashley Towers.
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