In 10 weeks time I will be home for 12 days. It seems ages away and at the same time, it's like it's tomorrow. The thing I remember most about the last time I returned home after being away for a while was the quality of the light. The light in NZ is so clear and the sunlight feels crisp in a way nothing does here in London. I'm looking forward to St Clair beach early in the morning as the sun is coming up and everything is beautiful shades of purple and blue. Hell, I'm looking forward to the beach and ocean full stop.
Two and a half months is also enough time for me to indulge in a Bridget Jones styled panic to become slim, glamorous and unrecognisable. I do blame movies for my constant loss of motivation. As I'm sweating my ass off on the cross trainer and listening to my iPod, I can't help but think that in the movies, I would only have to do this for 15 mins to achieve what I want. In the movies, I'd be bright red in the face and sweating copiously for the first 5 mins, I'd do funny things like fall off the back of my treadmill because of exhaustion or knock myself in the head with weights. But soon, to the accompaniment of some catchy theme song, I'd be decked out in sports bra and bike pants, jogging along with ease and noted lack of sweat. Sadly this is not reality.
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