running-is-cheaper-than-therapy

After a while, nothing continued to happen.

Hope y’all are well. We are doing Home Stuff, which means Get Organized or Die Trying Week. For inspiration we are watching the HGTV shows where the designer goes to the persons house and makes them throw away their crap, amidst tears and gnashing of teeth.

The kids haven’t drawn (much) blood yet, the dogs only ran away three times yesterday, and there’s only an 80% chance of thunderstorms (some possibly severe) today, so of course they’ll wanna ride bikes all day.

In the Lard Ass department, I ran 3 1/2 miles today, before dawn. It was good. It was humid. But I did it. I’m planning on five miles on Sunday to finish out the year in a good way. I was going to do it Monday but that would be just kidding myself.

There’s not much point in watching TV, we get Wall-to-Wall coverage of the Greatest Dead President Since Reagan, also all the “best of” and “worst of” 2006 shows and “how to get organized or die trying.” Nothing I wanna see.

It just started raining. Hard. Must be time to run to the store!

A moment ago I was sitting in the bathroom (where most good ideas, um, originate) and it occurred to me why I’m feeling so blah today.

I missed my run yesterday.

Okay, it was only one run. And it was supposed to be about four miles. And I’m running tomorrow, and hopefully Sunday, too. But I think sleeping in three days in a row (to the oh-so-late time of 6:30) has thrown me into a mini-funk.

I hope that’s all it is. I hope it’s nothing more sinister, more bigger than that.

I see a red door and I want to paint it black
no colors anymore I want them to turn black…

See, I’m even hearing depressing lyrics. Gah! Maybe I’m just feeling let down that Britney hasn’t married again, yet.