I can't face going for a walk. I've been trying it, walking (for exercise as much as for getting fresh air, seeing pretty things, etc.), and each time I feel that before I even get halfway, I want it to be over. Even though it does lift me afterwards, there's a real sense of disappointment I feel when I consider how good walks are supposed to be. Maybe I just need somewhere to go?

I can see yet another spurious life analogy forming, so let's skirt by that.

I know. I shall wheel my sad and broken bicycle to the bike shop that bears its name. Though perhaps you could also see the bicycle as my life - once proud and forward-looking, but now broken, unkempt, with bits missing and a saddle considerably lower than it used to be.

I've got to stop doing this :-)