#bitching and moaning and whinging

[somethingsketchy3]

man, if i wasn’t working on my film, i would love to just sit down and figure out how to properly render shit so i could post some decent art once in a while.

otherwise, my sketches are left unfinished and abandoned out of frustration with being stagnant.

[ofmermaidstories]

yeah 💕

[floral-hex]

I just get so tired of waking up every day and having to claw my way up to some emotional baseline

[pavlovianfuckery]

im about to tear my hair out, since i got some better files i was going to remake the gifs i usually use in better quality but that means learning photoshop and i can't get it to work???

like even when im following a step by step tutorial i mess up and end up with like 80 duplicates of 1 frame instead of an actual gif, im this close to putting my fist through the monitor

[salmonsnakerune]

tip for utilising fandom spaces:

don't use the main fucking tag to bitch.

[heavencentral]

im about to actually kill everyone who thinks trans men don't suffer a unique axis of oppression and therefore adds to said axis by making it seem like all we do is "bitch and moan and whine and whinge" as if we're not allowed to when our numbers of sexual violence and murder are severely undercut because to everyone we're just hysterical women.

[cod-indulgences]

something something johnny fucking us doggy style and accidentally "slipping up" or whatever - he's prepared to apologise profusely but the moan you let out is every bit whorish and he's just a man, so... 🤭

Johnny Mactavish x female!reader, surprise anal, oral, rimming, doggy style

Johnny slid his hands around your hips, squeezing, marveling at how fucking hot you were like this, braced on your elbows, ass up and bouncing that pretty pussy around his cock- fucking hell, he could die happy now.

You'd been so fussy about it, whinging on about being displayed (the way you deserve, in his opinion), fluttering your hands in embarrassment as he pulled your thighs open and got a nice look at your soft little pussy.

He'd licked you from clit to hole, spitting to wet you up quick, and all that silly fussing went away nicely once he had fingers in you, making you come with his lips on your clit, watching your tits bounce as you rocked back and forth against his face.

Now you're so nicely slick, he can just get his cock inside, hot and tight, and he closes his eyes and just enjoys it as you moan and wriggle, feeling the clenching waves of your pussy as you get warmer, wetter, how you squeak when he starts fucking you harder and his balls smack your clit.

Johnny feels you reach back to put a hand on your clit, and he grins and pulls it away. "Not yet," he teases, and pins it at the small of your back; you have to use the other to hold yourself up. You huff at him, and he pulls out and back in, grinding deep, reveling in the way your eyes cross from the change. Out again, his cockhead teasing your hole before slamming back inside, thighs meeting yours with a hard smack; again, letting your pussy wink shut before he shoves back in, fucking hell, your back arches more and he's deeper than ever, just nudging your cervix, fuck.

He drags back out slow, hearing you whine, what a rush, and leans over your back to whisper in your ear, "Want my cock love? Go on, let me hear you, ask me to fuck you," you're shaking your head, but he's not letting up, he wants you to just really let go. "Go on, say it, or you're not getting any cock at all."

Your head tosses and your hips bounce back, searching, but just catch the tip of his cock against your clit instead. "Fine! Fine, God, Johnny I want- I want you to...fuck me." The last is muffled against the sheets, but that's okay, he'll take it.

Johnny kisses your shoulder, lines up and thrusts- and there's a moment where he realizes it's not right, damp but not wet, impossibly tighter, before you're fucking thrashing under him, a full-body spasm that throws him back in surprise- oh fuck, he's in your ass- hot and too tight, clamping onto him like a vice, fuck he needs to get out-

And under his panting chest your back and arms go limp, thighs spreading, and the most pornographic moan he's ever heard is spilling from your throat. He feels your pussy drooling so much against his balls it's dripping.

"Holy Christ," he swears, and fucks your ass, slowly, carefully, and each time he bottoms out you moan, gushing. Forget before, this is the sexiest, most erotic sight Johnny has ever seen- and he's just a man, what the hell else can he do?

Johnny locks his arms under yours, pressing his whole chest against your back, and gives up whatever he had of control, fucking hard and deep into your ass. Slick is smearing around your pussy, wet slaps as his balls hit your pussy. He feels like a dog, rutting into his bitch, nothing left to him except instinct. You're going limp in waves under him, fucking drooling like a dog yourself, and doesn't that just go straight to his dick.

"C'mon, let me hear it, fucking- love it, don't you, forget your cunt I'm just going to fuck this little ass, every night, such a fucking slut for it-"

You whine and he feels the gush against his balls, Jesus Christ. Johnny gets his mouth onto your neck, sucking hard to leave a mark. "My slut," he growls, "my little bitch, giving me both holes to fuck, got to keep you happy yeah? Make you come on my cock?" He thinks he should get a hand down to your clit, but he can't stop, can't think of anything else but coming inside you, filling your belly up, and it's as he's feeling his balls draw up that he realizes you don't need it- you're coming, his cock pounding your ass open, waves going through your cunt and spasming around him, and Johnny howls and fucks into you two, three more thrusts and then grinds in, forcing your back to arch sharply, come spurting into your ass. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you wail, the hand pinned between your bodies twitching; he can feel the way your pussy clenches, separated from his cock by only a thin layer, and his eyes roll back as it knocks a little last burst of come out of him.

You moan weakly, and Johnny holds you through the aftershocks, licking over the bite mark he left. Your thighs twitch, and he soothes over your thighs as he sits up, wincing as sweaty skin sticks together.

But oh what a fucking sight, as he lifts up your hips to see the swollen red rim of your asshole, already squeezing his come out; perched like a cherry above the swollen wet folds of your pussy, your own come a slick mess all over your thighs. Fucking delicious, and before he can stop himself, Johnny licks you from clit to ass, his tongue dipping in, tasting himself- your wailing and kicking means nothing, not when he can hold your hips to his face and get his tongue all the way inside-

Turns out you love a tongue nearly as much as a cock in there.

[sassy-cissa]

Claiming my H/D Muggle Fair fic

Title: There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. Pairing: Draco/Harry Rating: NC-17/Explicit Word Count: 33.7 Tags: Muggle Private Eye Harry Potter, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Worried Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Head Auror Ron Weasley, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Mystery, Getting Together, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Hand Jobs, Lost friends, Broken Hearts, Banter, Happily Ever After Summary: Draco seemed to be the only one who found the circumstances surrounding Pansy's disappearance to be strange. When several days pass and attempts to convince the authorities to take action have failed, he seeks out the services of a little-known PI...

Notes: Thank you to my "team" – to oldenuf2nb who once again pulled this story out of the rubbish bin and made it readable, to timothysboxers who listened to me whinge about this fic for the last three years and offered brilliant advice, and finally to lettersbyelise who also listened to me bitch and moan while writing this and encouraged me to keep going when I wanted to quit. This fic was started in 2021 and fortunately fell right in line with this fest, giving me the push I needed to finish it.

The title is from The Boscombe Valley Mystery - a Sherlock Holmes Short Story.

[daddyslittlebunii]

Sleepy sub laying on their dom as the dom praises them as their hand slowly slides into their hole causing the sub to make some sleepy whines and squirm abit as the dom coos at them and calms them down as they fall back asleep as the dom slips another finger into their tight hole making the make quiet moans and whines at the stretching as the dom praises them "your doing so well for me baby just abit more hm?" As the dom slides a 3rd finger into them making the subs back arch and cling onto the dom and whimper panting out moans as the dom holds them down cooing and praising them "goood girl\boy your did so good for me such a slut hm? Even a asleep your hole still is hungry huh?" The dom starts slowly fingering the sub making the sub moan quietly as the dom says "don't be too loud dont want to wake you slut masters just feeding your eger slutty hungry hole" the dom goes faster as the sub squirming more as the dom calms the sub back asleep smirking feeling how needy and desperate the subs hole is as the dom spits on their hand slides it back in and says "now that my spit is inside your desperate hole wh wer re it belongs it knows who it belongs to dosen't it? I think it needs more convincing don't you? But maybe after you get your fun feel you clenching so fucking tight fuck" the dom goes faster "cum slut cum fucking so much for me" the sum whining moaning still sleeping cums hard and everywhere pleasing the dom as the dom slides their fingers out sucking on them then says "wanna taste your cunt? Here taste taste it" the dom opens their mouth and puts their hand in their mouth forcing them to taste it and suck on it instinctively the dom pets them praising them as the dom taste out their cock and slides his cock into the sub moaning at how tight they are despite the stretching and says as he starts thrusting "this is to convince this hole that it belongs to fucking me and only me fuuckkk" the sub moans out loud at the stretching and intensity of the pleasure as they squirming and grinding whinging panting out the dems name as the dom praises them for taking him and doing so well while shushing the sub back asleep not stopping the hard deep thrusts sending waves after waves of pleasure to the sub as the sub get louder as the dom covers the subs mouth cooing at them fucking them harder and degrading them "such disgusting fucking slut didn't say be quiet yet here you are being so fucking loud fuck your hole feels too fucking good yk that how can I resist it when your so at my mercy asleep mmm fucking hell your clenching me so tight again slutty bitch in heat gonna cum again already pathetic" the dom starts mercilessly slamming into the sub faster and rougher moaning as they both climax at the same time as the dome keeps fucking the dems into the sub then pulls out panting cooing and praising the sub asleep kissing them while putting their underwear\panties back on as cum oozes out of them as the dom puts his underwear on aswell pleased

[oldmanpusspuss]

Tummy hurts again but it's okay I'll just bitch and moan and whine and wail and cry and whinge and mewl and groan and whimper and yowl about it

[voided-code-sys]

comic con was good, heading home now

bit venty now but mum was talking abt how dad didnt complain at this since he doesnt like this sorta stuff which i get it and she said that we would have to watch him do the go karting stuff he likes BUT the thing abt this is she said i cant “whinge and complain” 30 mins into watching him. My “whinging and complaining” is me making how im feeling known, to try and stop bottling things up. I do this a lot, making it known when im uncomfortable. She sees it as me bitching and moaning. Sorry for being uncomfortable ig.

[bladeweave]

every time someone tells me they're not a complainer i just don't get it. it simply doesn't compute. you don't complain? you don't bitch or moan? no kvetching or whinging? it's not even the social function of complaining that gets me i do it for the love of the sport. i'll bitch to a dog about the price of biscuits. the carpet will hear my thoughts on pile height. to complain together is to share our lives together

[doonarose]

Sighhhhhh, academic whinging to follow....

That PhD student is definitely spiraling. And just like the last time, a year ago, she can't put her finger on why which makes it really hard for me to do anything about it. And the reality is, she's spiraling because she lets herself. So she's felt a bit shit about her PhD because reasons (a lot of this is anxiety and insecurity that she's good enough, panic that she's not doing enough, etc. and I can say, hand on heart, that I'm not feeding into this at all) which is totally normal for a PhD and then instead of processing them and/or handling them with some sort of coping, she locks herself in a room with them and just lets it build.

So she wrote some pretty shitty things in her two year report about a decline in morale and the negativity of the lab... I mean, that's probably fair, I hate it here, I hate my job, I have no idea what my long term plans are because money and also I'm not sure I'll ever build up research again, like I don't know if it's possible... but those things aren't said out loud to her and compared to the average graduate student experience... she doesn't really understand how good she has it? Which pisses me off. She has carte blanche on lab access, reagent purchasing, conference attendance. She has limitless access to me and a postdoc. The office has comfy sofas and a kitchen. Like, there are challenges here but it's not actually that bad for her.

And when we sat down on Monday to discuss why she had written what she'd written in her report - because she can't actually submit the report like that it will red flag all over the place - the stuff she could actually pinpoint was minor, dumb stuff. Like she wants our meetings to be more structured and stick to time... fine, happy for her to prepare an agenda and I won't get them go overtime. Easy. She says there's lots of pressure on everyone to publish (there's a shitload on me to publish) except I've asked her to write her first paper because the data set is finally done and also wouldn't mind her finishing off a review... this year... that's the pressure. That's totally reasonable. She worries about what I say about her behind her back... well here I am. Like that's a legit thing we all worry about all the time and then get over. No way she isn't bitching and moaning about me in a blog somewhere and to anyone else who will listen. She doesn't like how much her project has changed over the two years... this is bonkers because it is the least changed PhD I've ever seen... she's literally done the exact same experiment over and over for two years and the time blowout (because she didn't take a lot of my advice) just means she's dropped a couple of chapters (which I've now wasted several thousand dollars on) but other than that... The whole thing is so fucking infuriating.

Like I literally can't think of anything else she came up with that was a legit, solid concern and not just 'hand waving'.

So we have our scheduled weekly meeting 10am this morning and on Monday we agree she's going to write a list of the things I can change to make things better for her and I'm going to come up with highly structured plans (but not with deadlines because that'll be too stressful) for her third year experimental work and writing her paper. She emails at 8am to say she won't be coming in because she's feeling unwell. Totally fine if this is unrelated and she's just sick. But I'm betting she's not feeling mentally well enough - which is also fine, sometimes you need mental space and that's okay - except she knows I'm off campus Thursday and Friday... and Monday is a public holiday... so all of a sudden she's just going to avoid talking about this with me for over a week... so she can lock herself in her head and get so much worse. I've told her that if staying home is related to the PhD and not just physical sickness she really needs to talk to someone. Either in counselling or one of the many other academics I've told her to talk to in the past. She has co-supervisors and panel chairs.

So we will see. The irony here, I guess, is that in doing this she's left me to stew in my own shitty feelings for a week as well. We will see if I spiral or cope.

ho hum.

[misfitwashere]

Donald Trump has crushed his rivals in the Iowa caucuses. Should they drop out and let him take on Biden?

From Quora:

Let’s be honest, we all knew this was going to happen and the entire country and by extension the world were bracing themselves for it. However, the biggest news were the exit polls, 2/3 say they feel Trump won the 2020 election and the Biden Presidency is illegitimate, 44% said they were MAGAS and they would vote for Trump even if he was convicted of a crime.

DeSantis and Haley are road kill at this point. They had their chances, Haley could make it a little closer, DeSantis will stay in only for the inevitable losses to come and drop out within a month, 2 at the most.

The real issue is this one:

Joy Reid accuses White Christian Iowans of wanting to have people of color 'bow down' to them

Reid argued that evangelicals support Trump because they believe 'immigrants' and 'brown people' are 'illegitimate Americans'

Ok so what is it going to be folks. Trump has a 90% probability that he is going to win the Republican nomination, what are the Democrats going to do about it. Trump owns the evangelicals, all the mocking about him not being a Christian, the anti-Christ, none of them give a damn. He is their guy, their Jesus and he can say and do anything that he wants.

The General election effectively began last night.

The Republicans have made their agenda clear. Biden stole the election, doesn’t matter that everyone knows he did not, doesn’t matter how well he has led the country, doesn’t matter that Trump inspired and led an insurrection against the USA, what matters is what they believe.

Now what do the Democrats believe. Don’t even bother trying to convince evangelicals who have their Jesus martyr victim grifting them for money. Don’t think about those MAGA hatted folks, they want Trump.

There are 40% who are now ‘independents’ in the USA, they hold the balance of power. The Iowa caucuses have very few people but they have spoken for the Republicans, they want Trump, they worship and adore Trump. Trump could shoot them all on 5th avenue and they would gladly bow down. That is the GOP today.

Democrats, start your engines. No more whinging about Biden didn’t manage to overturn the Supreme Court decision to get your student loans cut, sorry kids you will have to pay, not as much as he did get you $50 billion back but not enough for you perfect kids. Millennials ditto, your raises were only 20% this year in your nice cushy jobs. Same for you African Americans, you are complaining the loudest, we hear you, you want more but you won’t get more if you don’t get up and vote for Biden, you will get nothing as Joy Reid has pointed out, you are illegitimate Americans to Trump supporters.

Same for you Latinos, you want to ‘bow down’ to Christian evangelicals. How about you classic Liberals, you like that Christian theocracy because if Trump wins it is surely coming. Oh and you Israel supporters bitching and moaning about Biden who is the strongest Presidential supporter of Israel ever, you don’t like him? Think about what Trump will give away.

Ditto to Ukraine and European supporters, you don’t want Trump, then you better wake up. How about those transatlantic Brits, you and the Aussies who are so dependent and deep in on AUKUS and everything else Biden has done for you, time to step up and support Biden.

I could go on but on the other side, the Saudis will clearly screw around with oil to raise the price of gas to push for Trump who will give them everything. They hate it that Biden is focused on renewables and the lies of Trump on Biden and oil? Hahaha what a joke, Biden is pumping more than Saudi the most oil pumped in the history of the world.

Putin is dancing in the street, he feels he just won the war in Ukraine. Make no doubt about it, Putin wants Trump as does Xi Jin Ping and every other authoritarian including Netanyahu. You like war, you like death you like the end of democracy on a global level, vote for Trump. He will take you down with him.

Oh and yes; Lies, lies and more damn lies you can see them coming. Daily, hourly ever more outlandish than the last ones.

This is the beginning of a 10 month campaign, buckle up, it is going to be the wildest and most important one in US history. Not hyperbole, reality.

Let’s get to work and make sure Trump gets crushed right back in November, 2024.

Henry R. Greenfield ·

Former Senior Consultant Global Digital Twin Technology at Integrated Facility Management (2019–2023)

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Excerpt from Chapter 21

Autumn '76 - Peeta

Silently, as soon as it's clear Jock has exited the house, sliding an unused glass across the table, Haymitch persists in his edict. Bitterly stomping over, while shooting him a dissatisfied look, I yank back and sag down into a chair. Obstinately disregarding the glass, cracking the seal and wincing as the whiskey burns my gullet, I chug directly from the bottle as he continues to quietly observe me.

Involuntarily shuddering as I come up for air several seconds later, smirking, he asks “Feel better?”

“No.” 

Leaning across the table and snatching the bottle out of my hands, he mutters “Didn’t think you would.” 

Retrieving the glass and filling it half full, while setting it in front of me, he remarks “Let me guess, you got it with both barrels.” 

Covering my face with my hands and throwing my head back against the chair, I release a long low sigh of pure pent up anguish.

Running my hands up into my hair and interlocking my fingers, while keeping my eyes closed to prevent more tears, I admit “I’ve majorly fucked up Haymitch.” 

“You’ve fucked up, but I wouldn't say it’s a major fuck up.” 

Shaking my head and pressing my lips together as I open my eyes, I impart “You weren’t there, you didn’t hear all the tit for tat that got thrown before she threw me out.” 

Topping up his glass , with a snort of laughter, he says “Strangely enough, that’s how those sorts of rows work.” 

“Do you think I was in the wrong for asking Delly and Rowan to move in?” I ask, grasping hold of my glass for a drink. 

Settling back into his chair, following a brief moment of consideration, he answers “No, not at all, but I do think it was wrong of you not to give Katniss a heads up first.” 

“She didn’t when it came to Johanna.” 

“Please tell me you didn’t bring that into it.” 

Circumventing a reply by supping my whiskey, as Haymitch starts laughing in disbelief, it’s evident my shamefaced expression has provided him with a nonverbal answer.  Particularly, when pinching his brow and shaking his head, he exclaims “Shit!”

Once the amusement has worn off, meeting my eye, he enlightens “Son, you never ever bring the best friends or sisters into an argument.  If it’s their prerogative to whinge, bitch, and moan about them, then fair enough, but you never ever utter a bad word, especially not in the middle of an argument.  It’s like pouring gasoline on to a fire.”

Crossing my arms and slumping down, I mumble “Well it’s too late now isn’t it.” 

“Besides, the Johanna situation is completely different.” 

Frowning, I scoff “How?”

“First of all, I invited Johanna to stay, and as much as I hoped she’d have ended up at Katniss’, if she didn't, she was still welcome here.  Secondly, Johanna isn’t a gorgeous member of the opposite sex with a close mutual bond that's been cultivated over years of care and respect.” 

“I don’t understand why everyone’s making it into such a big fucking deal.  It’s just Delly!” I bellow, throwing my hands up in frustration.  

Pompously raising a brow, in a matter of fact manner, he states “One word son…Gale.” 

Instantaneously, as the mutt menacingly thrashes against its metaphorical cage, viciously, I snarl “Fuck you Haymitch!”

Arrogantly gesturing to me with his glass, he declares “There! See how you instantly got your back up, and he’s not even here.  Now imagine how you’d have felt if you’d just got home from work, all excited to see your missus, and he welcomed you at the front door with his bags.” 

Quite frankly, even for a millisecond, I refuse to imagine any scenario in which Katniss is with Gale, because despite the complete and utter shit show of an evening, personally, I’m proud of how I’ve been able to keep the mutt leashed.  Therefore, I’m not about to push my luck now. 

Commandeering the conversation and redirecting it into slightly less disastrous domain, as Haymitch glugs, exasperated, I grumble “Oh but according to her she’s not even my missus.” 

“Bullshit!”

“My thoughts exactly, but because I haven’t actually asked her to be my girlfriend she’s got in her head that she isn’t.” 

Apparently perplexed by this previously unknown piece of information, he asks “You’ve not had that conversation?” 

“Didn’t think I had to, but I’m guessing Katniss wants it to be an official thing. I’d have asked her right there and…”

“No!” he hurriedly cuts in “Whatever you do, do not ask her in the midst of this argument.  Otherwise, at some point later down the line, she’ll get it in her head that that’s the only reason you asked.” 

“What, so I just leave it hanging in the air?” 

“No, you acknowledge it, you reassure her that she means all that and more and ask her at a later date when you’ve both worked through this current predicament.” 

Draining my glass dry and slamming it down onto the table, while slouching, I sigh “I don't understand how she could think she’s anything but my girlfriend…even then girlfriend isn’t the right word for her…it’s too…meh.” 

“And honestly son, I don't understand why you’ve never officially sealed the deal.” Haymitch comments, topping it up without needing to be asked.  

“You didn’t with Nancy, told me so yourself that you never had to have that conversation.” 

Pouring a dram of golden liquor out for himself, pensively, he counsels “Me and Nancy aren’t you and Katniss.  We were never in your situation, never forced to second guess ourselves or face your insurmountable pressures, and certainly never , as a couple, did we ever have to deal with the trauma you two do.” 

“So once again I’m in the wrong?” I petulantly chunter.  

“I never said you were in the wrong.  But taking a quick peek from Katniss’ point of view, even a grumpy old bastard like me can understand why, with an awful lot of gentle reassurance, she’d need everything to be clearly defined.  And to be honest, after everything, I’m surprised you don’t too.”  

“Then why didn’t she just say something weeks ago?  Why leave it to bubble up and boil over?  I’m not a fucking mind reader!”  

“Female logic, it’s a mystery!” he sniggers “But that being said, you’ve got to remember that as much as you're not a mind reader neither is she.  Best thing you can do now is calm down and talk it all through properly.” 

Irritatingly, as per bloody usual, he’s inherently correct.  Consequently, while aided by the thwacks, hair tugging, and alcohol, him rightly confronting me about my insufficient forethought makes my head ache with remorse.  A headache that maybe, just maybe, could have been avoided were I not such a monumental fucking screw up.   

Lapsing into a weighty silence, while nursing my whiskey and ruminating over the events of the day, ultimately, I conclude that it’s not over yet.  Therefore, should I be able to find the fortitude to play my cards right, theoretically, I still have time to turn things around.  

Nodding in acceptance of Haymitch’s proffered top up, as I watch my final dram of dutch courage be poured, while massaging the back of my head, wearily, I sigh “I was just trying to do the right thing Haymitch.” 

Sympathetically, with a stunted smile, he replies “Aye, I know you were son.  That’s all you ever try to do and Katniss knows that more than most.” 

A long time ago, huddled in the shabby school library one rainy recess, I read a quote by an ancient philosopher that due to my circumstance at home struck a chord.

‘The reservedness and distance that fathers keep, often deprive their sons of that refuge which would be of more advantage to them than a hundred rebukes or chidings’ 

Watching him lounge back in his chair, rest his grubby feet upon the table, and sup his whiskey, a rush of unadulterated respect and devotion washes over me, because without a shadow of a doubt Haymitch is my refuge.

Roughly an hour later, calm and ready to talk things through, seeing me to the door with a hug, Haymitch keeps an eye on me as I walk the twenty-five yards to Katniss’ house.  Letting myself in, as I once again check the kitchen and find the fireside rocker uninhabited, an eerie sense of déjà vu makes me feel slightly sick.  Gripping hold of the handrail, at the foot of the stairs, I take a deep fortifying breath and ascend.  

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[suzieb-fit]

Whinge...moan...grumble....bitch....

Day one without my peanuts.

Only joking with that first line. Kinda...

I had a cold hard boiled egg with a few brazil nuts with my strong coffee.

Now, I could have easily had the egg or the nuts on their own. That was enough. That will also keep the cost down a bit. A single egg just seemed a bit insignificant, lol. But yep, it was plenty.

Going to just go with nuts or egg tomorrow.

I have scrapped the sleep restriction plan. I am too wrapped up with the mucus thing right now.

So I'm going to bed at what used to be my normal time. That worked out fine the first two nights, but this morning I was awake and drinking decaff just after 5am. No biggie.

Then I had to get moving.

Bodyweight strength for my lower body.

Full reps for 30 seconds, pulses for 20, then ac10 second isometric hold.

Four circuits of three moves, two rounds each.

Then I put my raincoat on, and set off out for my little walk. Not seen a sunrise for a few days but I still get myself out there!

I'm plodding on, because that's better than throwing my arms up in defeat and sulking on the couch all day.

And yep, that is quite tempting, I gotta say!