I had about an hour's sleep last night because I was up and down with the poorly dog. I spent most of the night on the sofa which is soft and squishy with zero lumbar support. So my hips are bloody killing me today.
But, I thought, all will be well because its Tuesday and that means HIIT class at the gym. And HIIT class at the gym means swinging by Morrisons to by something ridiculous for tea as a treat.
HIIT followed by impulse junk food, I thought, will get some energy pumping, sort my stiff hips out, and let me indulge my self-pity.
And, I remembered, that this week isn't just an ordinary HIIT class. Oh no, this week's HIIT class is covered by a smoking, smoking hot instructor who lives just near Morrisons. So, not only would his squat demonstration cheer me up no end, I could also get flirty shirty on the way to Morrisons.
But the smoking hot instructor is unwell. So the HIIT class has been cancelled. That means no flirting, no sexy squats, no re-energising, and nothing for tea.
I'm gutted and feeling very sorry for myself.