There are two sounds outside my window: traffic and rain. Accordingly, I’m not feeling very optimistic about the remainder of this Tuesday, and I’m only four hours in.
I’ve never been a fan of Tuesday. I’ve always found it the least remarkable of days. It doesn’t have the newness or blueness of Monday. It’s not half-way through the work week like Wednesday. It doesn’t have the whole “Thursday is the new Friday” thing goin’ on. And, well, it sure as hell ain’t as cool Friday or Saturday.
Yeah, so, it’s just after four in the morning on Tuesday and I’m awake. I started feeling week and kinda’ feverish late Mondat afternoon, and cut out of work early (all of forty-five minutes, but still). I came home, changed into sweats, and climbed onto my (soon-to-be liquidated) futon. Two smoothies, a slice of pizza, and a few minutes of ‘Born Rich’ later, I climbed into bed. It was 7:30.
Rock the f*** on, you say?
I don’t think I’m sick or anything after all. I think my total-body soreness has more to do wth the fact that I’ve had a major race — three half-marathons, one 18-miler, a 20-miler, and a triathlon — every weekend for the last six. This weekend’s event? Moving. And shooting a music video.
One day at a time, Sweet Jesus. One day at a time.
How do I feel through it all? In my heart, not my head (where I’m planning and organizing) or my calves (where I’m all knotted up), I feel pretty much how I usually feel: alone. I’m not sure how to elaborate without feeling like I’ve said too much. So … listen to ‘Love And Other Indoor Games,’ the second half of the record where’s She’s left me, and you’ll get the idea. I’m sure you get the idea anyway. It’ll change. It’ll work out. One of these days I’ll have someone to coax me out of bed in the morning for a run, someone to come home and cook for, someone to read magazines and watch movies with, someone whose lap I can rest my head on and fall alseep …
Meantime, it’s 4:22 a.m. I think I ought to go back to bed before I say something really revealing. G’night, er, g’morning.