It's Only Running...

I had to do a personality test at work recently - one of those profiles where you’re assigned a colour. I’m yellow, apparently, which means I’m an extrovert who’s all about fun, enjoyment, and inspiring others. This won’t surprise regular readers (all three of them) who know I’m nothing if not a ray of fucking sunshine, always ready with motivational bullshit, and generally full of good vibes. I suppose I do prioritise my ‘enjoyment’ over many other aspects of my life, most notably housework and conscientious parenting, but I stopped short of asking the workshop facilitator (not writing that with a straight face, promise) whether it still counts as fun when it involves repeatedly shitting in bushes, bowking on your cheese and pickle sarnie, and getting your husband to do a thorough tick sweep when you’re done? Just because your mates are weirdos, etc. So having established that my idea of fun is quite possibly a little different from what most people understand by the term, when I