I went for a run before work, while it was still a bit dark. It’s amazing how busy it is, but I suppose six-thirty isn’t that early for some people.

Even if I’m crap at it I do feel energised afterwards and I noticed a guy on the tub staring at the v-neck of my blouse. I had wondered if maybe I should wear a bra, just to get a bit more cleavage, but it seems that men will pretty much stare at any patch of bare skin that crosses their eyeline.

Jo actually wore a dress in the office today. I mean, it was a very nice professional dress, not like a ballgown, but it still stood out. It had never occurred to me before so I guess I’ll be back in the shops again soon. She’s a bit thinner than me, though, the cow. (The lovely cow.) I was brave enough to tell her how much I liked it and she said “thanks” and that she felt like a change, and then she ran her hands through her long hair and I think every man in the office turned to look. (Cow. Again.)

I met a school friend and we went for lunch and saw a film. Yet again, I was too terrified that she’s work out I was some kind of wannabe freaky streaker that I wore the most conservative outfit I could find. We went to a film afterwards.

It was nice to see her, but when I hear about how her and her boyfriend are buying their first place it gets me really jealous.

I took my frustration out on running this morning. Or rather running and walking. Or maybe just shuffling and walking. I was up far too early and at least it was quiet out. I wondered whether running in the nude would ever be feasible, and then remembered what it had been like on the treadmill just being without a bra and shook the idea off.

I stripped off an showered as soon as I got back and it seemed fairly natural not to get dressed right away as I was still pretty warm. But I think I walked past the dining room window when someone was in the room opposite… They can’t really see in all that well, but I do wonder.

I think this is the first weekend in ages I didn’t go clothes shopping.

Well… lunch wasn’t quite what I’d planned for, as Jo had invited all the women from the office. I felt silly for thinking it was just going to be me, and especially for dressing up for it. Jo paid for us all. She’s really nice and I can’t work out if I have a real crush on her or am just competing for attention with all the other girls, because everyone likes her.

We were in such a good mood in the afternoon I don’t think the men knew what to make of it. I told Matthew we were going to the pub afterwards and he had to come. He seemed quite stunned but agreed!

I was doing my best to flirt with him when his fiancée arrived. She was disappointingly lovely and I could see why he wouldn’t even give me a second thought in comparison. How depressing.

I went and told Matthew about my new running regime today and, in a stroke of genius, I pulled my skirt up and showed him exactly where on my thighs it ached, each one in turn, just an inch above where my thigh socks ended. Another few inches and he’d have seen everything… I was so turned on I was tempted to go into the bathroom and masturbate afterwards. Matthew’s now seen more of my thighs than any man for a good few years.

A meeting with Brian (my boss) soon cooled me down again, but then I bumped into Jo later that afternoon and she suggested going out for lunch tomorrow. I said I’d love to. Now I have to work out what to wear.

I told Ha that I’d started running, and that my legs hurt and it was her fault. She said when I was ready we could go out running together and she’d soon whip me into shape. She’s an odd one, that girl.

I have concluded that Pilates will never get any easier.

I started at a client’s office today, going in half a day each week and doing their accounts. They were an internet start-up, made up of five men under forty, and each of them gave me a look up and down as I said “hello”.

I decided to make the most of it by undoing another button of my blouse. I mean, they don’t know me, and I’ll not see them outside of this office, so why not? And it was amazing how helpful they were when I asked them any question whatsoever.

I was so pleased with myself I went running after work even though my legs still ached from Sunday.

Operation flirt was planned to start today, but my legs were a bit stiff from the running. Still, donning ankle boots and long socks, and a skirt that only just came over my knee, and with a nice clingy top with a bit of a plunging neckline to complete the picture, I set off to work. Not that anyone on the tube would know any of this as I wore my winter coat.

Anyway, I made up a random reason to go and see Matthew this morning, and as I perched on the edge of his desk I managed to push my skirt up a little, just enough to show a bit of thigh. I saw him look down, and then away, and it was such a thrill. Now I just need to find someone single, that I like, that might like me etc etc because with no knickers on I am literally read to go at a moment’s notice lol!

Running is really hard work! And not at all sexy! I need more sports bras.

I was only following an NHS podcast and there’s hardly any running involved, with lots of walking in between, but my legs ache now. I was out early(ish) for Sunday and there were other runners about (and they were actually running), and when I got back I had a shower and then ended up collapsing on the sofa and just lay there, naked and tired and watching a Sunday morning cooking programme.

I hadn’t pulled the curtains so when I finally got around to moving I peered out of the window and saw my neighbours opposite. I had to crawl out of the front room so they couldn’t see me! Which is silly, since it’s my own flat: why can’t I be naked in it if I want?

Anyway, I made a decision today: now I knew Matthew was unavailable, I would flirt with him as freely as if he were my best and gayest friend who would never in a million years be interested. It would be good practice.

Retail therapy might be the best cure for a lovesick heart (and it’s not like I was even that hot on Matthew anyway), but shopping for running shoes really isn’t it. I was in trousers and a top and no underwear and they asked me to go on a treadmill to check my gait and recommend the right trainers for me. I’ve never been on a treadmill before and as well as hanging on for half of it my boobs were bouncing everywhere. There are times when underwear really makes a lot of sense.

Anyway, between those and leggings and running tops I came away about three hundred pounds poorer. I’ll go out and try the new gear tomorrow, I promise.