Trying to row elegantly like a lady

So off I went to the rowing club and it was decided by my instructor, that I should go and practice sculling in a single seater rowing boat(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sculling).


Why thank you kind sir


Placed boat in water, placed oars, port and starboard and crouched as low as I could go to get in (this is how it is done - a little like al fresco toilet habits, trying to avoid stinging nettles) and strapped my feet in. 


Yep, this is do-able


The piece of advice I needed to take on board was  "if you fall out or rather in, DO NOT leave the boat, you need to hold onto the boat and doggy paddle back to the pontoon" (thinking thinking, do NOT leave the boat, do NOT leave the boat ..)
I'm gently pushed away from the pontoon, I'm gliding, I'm alright, yep and I'm now in the middle of the River Severn.

Boom,
My hearts racing,I have an overwhelming feeling of nausea, my knees are knocking and I keep looking to my left, thinking can I get near enough to the bank to clamber up.. (do NOT leave the boat .....)

I am quite literally up shit creek without a paddle (http://onlineslangdictionary.com/meaning-of/up-shit-creek-without-a-paddle).

Sabrina the river boat cruise is now to right of me and I'm bobbing up and now, like a nodding dog on the back parcel shelf, Well, I would have been, if I was a little more relaxed and not had my shoulders around my ears.

I managed to get back to the pontoon (God knows how) after being out on the water for 15 mins max (a lifetime)

I then overheard this conversation.

Bod 1: So why has that girl come back in so early
Bod 2: I have never seen anyone look so petrified on the water. Maybe she just shows it more than others.

Arrh
So I should be a comedian

I have never been out on the water sculling on my own before and quite frankly, I think it may take a little time for me to do so again.

Stand Up Comedy

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My colleague thinks I'm collecting material for my debut as a stand up comic and as much as I would like this to be true,  my brain is like a papier mache mulch of sludge (http://www.papiermache.co.uk/) by the time I return home from work. It is at this point, that I become sloth like (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sloth)(Check out that bad boy)


I can't bloody remember for the life of me any of the anecdotes during the day. Why were we hysterically laughing like the three witches from Macbeth? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macbeth). Not to say my colleagues and I are witches, but rather a cast of BBC2's Grumpy old women, which is something I thought I'd never become, but actually feel very comfortable being here. I spend the day playing a continuous game of volleyball passes of banter and laughter, in between working my butt off and being the best I can be. 


I can remember the visual day I've had, the copious amount of black coffee, pulling faces partly through the creases of laughter and more than likely through sheer despair, the invented silly walks around the office to stretch my legs, the rants and the way I was feeling. But try and put that into words, well now, that's a different ball game all together, and if I could, I would be heading to an open mic night, as we speak,(http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2007/jan/06/freestuff.guardianspecial415)although being so sloth like, does mean I will put it off until tomorrow.


Anyhow, a picture is worth a thousand words and I am in the mood for sharing

Goodnight, don't let the bedbugs bite


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