It's true that the older you get, time feels like it goes by quicker. It feels like it's taken five hundred days for the last two hundred to go by, Two hundred for the last hundred, and ten for the last fifty. Which means the next eight hundred will take ten, if my maths is right?

But it's been a busy hundred. Two new years have come (In Vegas, you can't escape the Western New Year, with it's drunken twats paying idiot prices to get into clubs they can't move in, or the Eastern New Year with the red-and-various-animal-motif decorations). I turned 33 in a spectacular non-event. Got a new kitchen in the house. Redesigned my website. Started writing properly again. Started watching what I eat, laying off one sort of sauce while rediscovering my love for Sriracha (vote Sriracha lays, everyone!). I have even. . .wait for it. . .started working out.

Sort of. By working out, I mean swimming. But compared to the sedentary lifestyle I usually maintain, anything is good, right? And it's not too hard this time, either. Five minutes the first day is now fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of swimming laps in a pool that's about 68 degrees is better than three minutes of blowing like a beached whale after climbing two flights of stairs. Because I've only got 800 days.

Actually, it's less than 800 days. As the countdown is to my last day at work and first day at being an unemployed sailor (read: bum), I should mention a couple of clipper things. Sent off another payment, started buying gear, and signed up for my level 1 training. 4-11 October, I'll be getting the shit knocked out of me as I start to really learn how to sail, not the half-arsed 'look-I-have-a-boat' bollocks I do right now. According to past crew member accounts, it's going to kick my arse. So much so, that on the 13th October, when I'll be headed to Salisbury to celebrate a 100th birthday, I'll probably be moving more stiffly than the birthday girl.

But hey, I've got a dry bag and a pair of Harken Sailing pants (and some bamboo underwear, more on those later), so at least I'll look the part.

I always claim that I have an addictive personality. That's why I never took up smoking, or drugs or anything like that cos I'd get addicted pretty quickly. And I still stand by the claim, even if it isn't true. I'm really good at excuses, I can usually come up with any number of them for any situation, and that's what calling myself an addictive personality started out as. Hey man, you wanna smoke? Nah, if I get into it I'll never stop because I've got an addictive personality. Hell, that's what I tell people about my tongue ring- I got it cos I have an oral fixation and I'd be a 2-pack a day smoker if I didn't have it. It's got absolutely nothing to do with oral sex. But maybe I've started to convince myself that I am that sort of person. I find myself doing things over and over, almost like I am an addict, can't get enough, can stop any time but don't want to right now thank you so very much. There's this bloody stupid game on the iPhone, Undead Live, and I keep playing it even though it's completely asinine and you don't actually do anything in it. I think about signing up for World of Warcraft again, even though I got to level 80 and a lot of it is repetitive (they call parts of the game grinding, for crying out loud). I like to have a drink most days, doesn't really matter what it is as long as it isn't Jim Beam or Jose Cuervo (bad experiences when younger).

And now I'm finding myself thinking about going to the gym a lot.

Strange? Yeah, I thought so too. But two weeks ago I started going three times a week (and I still can't see a change, what the hell?). Last time I went this regularly was two years ago exactly, and it stopped when I went on holiday to Germany for Dad's 60th and a beer/wine festival. Got back, had put on weight from all the good food and good booze. Instead of being encouraged to go back to the gym, I got depressed that I was back here and not still over there, and started (re: continued, only more so) drinking.

But that was then and this is not then. For the first week I tried going after work, which was when I had been going before. Didn't like it, cos I'm finding myself waking up earlier and earlier right now, and that sucks if you don't get out of the gym until 115am. Last week I went before work and that was much better-- I was waking up anyway, and instead of reading the latest cracked.com lists if I got out of bed and went to the gym then I could actually get things done before I went to work.

So my days are thursday, saturday, and monday (my monday, wendesday and friday). this week however, we're dark so I have a fucked up work schedule. I had tuesday off (normal), worked today (wednesday) at 7am (definitely not normal), tomorrow at 8am, friday at noon, saturday off, sunday 4 til midnight, monday tuesday off, wednesday 9am, thursday back to normal. How am I supposed to stick to a routine still in its infancy? Do I go to the gym tonight, even though it's not my day to go? Do I go tomorrow after work? Or do I try to go before work cos that's the routine I'm trying to develop, even tho it'll be five hours earlier if I do that?

The answer is, I'm probably going to get up and go before work. That means I'll be getting up around 5am, a time I'm much more likely to go to bed at. But it's only one day, I reckon I can do it. Why not go after work? I hear you ask. Well, remember that whole thing about addiction? Now I have two addictions almost competing for my attention. If I get up early and go to the gym before work, then I can go from work and catch Yardhouse Happy Hour tomorrow night, where the beer's cheaped and select appetisers are half off. . .