After taking care of the batterie-recharge problem (okay, why didn't someone tell me that you have to recharge new rechargable batteries, 'cause they -apparently- are empty when you buy them? I felt like such a girl when E. from D. had to explain that to me, grrr) I went to work out with mr. Right again. But, unlike last week when he had been a very good boy (...;) this time he decided to play ballads and -this is where I draw the line- something that sounded suspiciously like jazz during our training: that was it, I had to dump him, sorry.
Spend the rest of the night on the couch, impersonating a potatoe;)