Last night was hellish.
Did a full workout in the evening - fantastic. I can manage 4 full pull-ups on the first set, 3 on the second set, 1 on the third set and sweet fuck all on the fourth set. Always topping up with the inclines, of course.
That's not really the issue here though. The issue is that my son was being a tiny terrorist and refused to go to sleep at bedtime. I ended up going with him at 9.30 and just lay there, silently managing his escape attempts until about 11pm when he finally wore himself out. Vivienne had planning and school work to take care of, hence my involvement.
Trouble is, now I don't have any snacks or lunch prepared.
So now I have to go home at fucking lunchtime and sort it all out from there.
Bastards. Seriously, try doing this with a toddler - then you'll learn the meaning of the word pain.
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