Brain: …So that’s what we need to do.
Paul: Are you sure about that, it appears it will take longer than 5 minutes. You know me and attention spans, something that looks like it will be hard work, you know I will just give in at the first sign of trouble.
Brain: Trust me; it’s your way forward.
Paul: Is that like the “trust me” that landed me with 5000 tins of spam, because you were convinced the world was about to end and we needed food?
Brain: Ok, that didn’t work. But this one is good, there is a plan.
Paul: I love it when a plan comes together. Can I get away with not doing any of the work then?
Brain: No, dammit for the last time, you have to actually do something here.

So this was the conversation with my head the weekend about the evil plans that have been drawn and will be enacted out over the next few months. It suffered some setbacks in the creative process but as with all things, it’s a matter of time. And I need lots of practice in all honesty, it’s been a while since my last attempt at this wonderful feat of humanity, and frankly the first plan is to make a note of everything I know and have experienced. And yes, This cryptic message is more devious than a badly planned game of Sudoku.

And so on this day of Tues, we come back to the blog, all refreshed and revitalised, ready to give our all in the cause of truth, justice and the British way of life. Well some of us do anyway.

It was confirmed at 7:23 this morning that once again I have been struck with manflu, yes that dreaded of all diseases feared by men the world over, and the one time women finally get to say “Ha-ha, that’s just a wimpy cold. We are the superior race, bow and obey us.”

But as we all rightly know that’s just rubbish. Yes the cold may play a valuable part in this and indeed the main part of our symptoms, but alas I can at least reveal that a sore throat is approaching southbound on the Hughes expressway, and my energy levels are dropping fast, which means I am becoming even more leisurely than normal. A snail could out run me at this point.

And frankly it annoys more than anything, the very instant I need to get on and do things, the body automatically gives out on some flimsy excuse like a 3 year old child who just learned the gift of annoying you. “I need to go to the toilet!!” “I want ice cream” or the ever popular “I am more important than you so drop everything and pay attention to me or I’ll call Childline and say bad things about you.”

Your body is at its best when its at its worst. After all, you only pay attention after it starts going bad on you and the aches and pains come fast and furious telling you something is wrong. Then you actually find the time to spend with it, take it to the seaside, buy it some Lego and before you know it, it’s fast asleep all better allowing you to get back to doing the crossword.

That’s how my body is reacting right now. I had plans to go to the gym today and spend time fine tuning it by 0.000000000000001%, but after the way it’s treating me and what I want, it’s going the right way for a smacked bottom.

Perhaps the fact that I don’t sleep often enough (big surprise there I assure you all) that the body gets worn down and actually needs a time-out in order to recharge, center its chi, turn the lower intestine into a zen garden, and have Mr. Woo perform the dry cleaning on your various other organs, of which I will leave to your imagination.

The problem is, if in fact you allow the body to get the required 8 hours or so sleep it needs every day (others say less, other say more, but 8 is the average according to the Internet) you find that you have to give up other things during the week like a social life, you are in bed when the best TV programmes are on, and if you drive a good distance to and from work every day, you find that leaves next to no time for anything else other than Work and Sleep. If you have kids, well even then you have no time for anything as it is.

And where is the fun in that? Surely there must be a better way of handling this. Sacrifice sleep for fun, or spend 5 days a week going to bed early and then working and then coming home just to sleep? Somehow that doesn’t sit very well with this old human. So “naughty word here” to sleep, I’m wanting to go kill me some varmets! Though not right now, my body needs pampering. Waster….