Friday, 9 July 2010

I've put my foot down with my personal trainer

So I'm meant to be doing some diet and fitness programme with my personal trainer, J. But I'm not into it. I started out with good intentions and I'm meant to be following some diet as well. To be honest it's boooooring.

J has been coming round every morning at 9.30 for training. The other morning I couldn't be arsed so I texted him to say I was ill. Turns out he didn't get the text and turned up anyway. So there I was in bed having a fag and an espresso when J walked in! The dippy nanny had answered the door to him.

I'm not meant to be having fags or caffeine at the moment, J was not happy. I told him that I'd had enough of the stupid fitness programme and that I didn't want a wheatgrass smoothie instead of breakfast any more. And that I can't give up fags because I like them too much.

So J's gone off to design a new programme for me. Yaaawn. Apparently it's the same one he did for Sienna Miller.

Rock Star came home with a pile of Baby Dior for Tulip. He's such a good daddy. I've had the nanny put her in three outfits already today!

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