Dang it. I put on my running shoes, stretched out, slapped on some clothes, and was gathering my running stuff when I thought to check on a text message I received earlier. The husband is at a Windows 7 conference/party and won't be home until late. This is the risk you take when you marry a geek. He has "things" he does that are just too geeky to anticipate.
T is out of control. He keeps punching and kicking things. (He has a problem with violence if he gets too ramped up.) There has been a lot of yelling too. In an hour, I'll making him do his homework and there will be a major revolt.
Darn it. I was seriously going to ramp up on endorphins before tackling a letter of recommendation for B's teacher.
The husband is going to point at our rather large clothes line (cough treadmill cough.) He just doesn't get it, though. I need to be out being chased by the pit bulls on the end of the street. I need to feel the wind through my hair from cars passing me too closely. I need see the llamas and the sheep and the horses and the cows. I need to run along a forest where a man was attacked by a bear a few years ago. There are just things I need. Plus, I haven't broken in my shoes yet.
Darn Windows 7. You've thrown off my groove.
T wants spaghetti. (T always wants spaghetti...) I should go make him some. Ho-hum. Poor me.