I just faced one of my pet hates. Telephone calls. I really, really hate making certain types of telephone calls, like ringing the bank or a mail order company, you know the sort of thing. I hate it. I come out in a cold sweat. My mouth stops working and I talk jibberish, (what's new there then?) so I'm quite chuffed with myself.
It was a certain high street retail company that had charged me for something I had never received. Now, it's out of stock. Pants. At least I made the call.
Yes, I jogged, yes I enjoyed (!!??) it and yes, I shall go again.
I'm quite impressed actually. I'm not the slightest bit sore. Must be fitter than I thought!