marriage

Yeah, it’s life, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Another yelling match this morning, more defiance, more feeling like a
shitty dad.

Doubleplus? It’s my 21st anniversary. Hi honey.

Not feeling so sure about the 22nd, at the moment, given how things are lately.

Another month, and it was OK running wise. I have 47 miles on the log, which is the most since October. Yay.

I’m almost to the end of my Hal Higdon Spring Training, two weeks left, so that means I need to get cracking and plan out the next step. Should I shoot for a half marathon, or a ten K?

I have no illusions that I am a fast runner, no, and I’m worried enough about my joints to not push it, because I am definitely a fat runner. I’m about 265 right now, which is 100 pounds over where my doctor wants me. Yeah, I’m workin’ on it.

I also turned 43 today. Another yay. Feels an awful lot like 42 (emphasis on ‘like.’)

I was at the wholesale store today, getting vanilla, and there was a girl struggling with a bag of sugar. Okay, it was a 50 pound bag of sugar, but I was already there so I said “You want some help?”

“It’s stuck or something.”

It wasn’t, it was just heavy and at an awkward angle for her, but after I dropped it in her cart she was extremely gracious. It was almost funny, I’ve never seen anybody that happy to get a bag of sugar before.

I mopped the floor this morning, so it’s nice and clean for at least a couple hours. My dogs, cats, and kids are already plotting to mess it up again, I can just tell.

Oh, funny thing yesterday. We were outside and my daughter saw her friend, our next door neighbor who is a couple years younger than her. They were getting in their car, so she ran over to say hi. (remember, she’s only four). When she came back, she said, matter-of-factly: “They’re going to a wedding. He’s gonna marry someone.”

And as cute as that is, she also says “marry,” in the cemetery sense, when we drive past a graveyard she says “Is that where people are married?”

If, 24 hours ago, you would have told me that the Giants would win the Super Bowl and that my wife and I would steal a few minutes of “grown up time” in the middle of the afternoon, I would have said you were certifiable.

Looking at how things turned out, now I’d call you a genius.

So I’m sitting at work, wondering if my wife is going to come get me (see, we don’t just break grandmas, we break cars, too, and mine is in the shop).

The phone rings, she answers, and I say “Hello.”

“Oh shit, I’m supposed to come get you!!??”