I have redeemed myself, exercise-wise: in the past week, I’ve rowed 30 km or a little more (on the erg, in an eight and in a quad) plus I’ve cycled about 35 km. I ought to start riding to and from work more often now that the weather’s more conducive to it; maybe I can talk Rudder into riding with me when he’s over this cold. This weekend exercise will be limited to walking around the streets of Paris. Quel dommage. (Actually we will probably do enough walking for it to really count as exercise.)

I ought to row in sucky boats more often; yesterday’s row in the quad felt so good! It actually was pretty good. We’re definitely improving, though we could still use some more power. But by comparison with the eight on Tuesday it felt like an Olympic boat. After rowing for two days, I finally slept well last night – I’d been sleeping annoyingly lightly for some reason. Tuesday night, Rudder’s cold made him a bit more restless than normal and though he wasn’t coughing a lot, when he did it sounded like a gunshot and I’d wake up levitating a foot above the bed. Around 1AM I gave up and went to sleep on the couch. Last night, though, I was tired enough to give it another chance, and I think also the Nyquil knocked Rudder out thoroughly. I might even have gotten to sleep the whole night through if the stupid cat hadn’t decided, as usual, that we needed to have a chat around 4:30 AM.

Deep sleep came with a price, though; I had a dream that the Nazis had taken over the Netherlands, and I was watching some sort of parade down the street, with swastika flags and saluting arms. In the dream it was vaguely upsetting, not the sort of horribleness it would be in real life, but still, not quite pleasant.