I didn't sleep at all last night, as the man sang. My wife suggested that I probably have a guilty conscience-that there must be some transgression worrying my soul. I suggested that since I have neither a conscience, nor a soul worth worrying about, the culprit was most likely the second helping of Super Bowl chili I'd had for dinner. In either case, I was a Grumpy Gussie.
I figured a run was just the thing to snap me out of my humanity-hatin' haze. And so it was. I had an easy 5-miler on a beautiful, winter morning. The air was still, and snow covered the trees, leaving the streets mostly clear. It was great to be out in it. I returned with a smile, whistling "Zip a Dee Doo Dah," kissed the dog and the cat full on their mouths, and would have given the missus the same treatment, but I had gotten the order wrong, and was denied.
I could feel my Happy Meter starting to nosedive, so I went back out for another 5 miles, came home more elated than before, and flew up the stairs and into our apartment to kiss my beloved. But, it was too late, she had already left for work. She had left a note, however, on a picture of a donkey with an arrow pointing toward it's hind end, and the caption, "Kiss this, Romeo." I was bummed. What could I do? I still had my running clothes on.
Out the door I ran. It was only 5 miles to where she works...
Thanks for humoring me.
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