Done. Just. Let. It. Be. Done.

So, back two months and five days ago I wrote a post about looking at a house. Two months and three days ago we made an offer on a different house. Yada yada you SERIOUSLY do not want the details, but we are still in the process of buying said house, two weeks past the closing date, no end in sight, and I, well I am still LIVING WITH MY MOTHER.

IN ALL CAPS!

My mother is also the REALTOR!

And the whole thing is a mess! AND I LIVE WITH MY MOTHER, THE REALTOR.

I seem to spend a lot of time SPEAKING IN ALL CAPS TOO.

My coworkers notice. Which is undeniably embarassing.

I have given my coworker very specific instructions about which mental hospital hospital to send me to if I have a visible nervous breakdown while at work. And which one to make sure I DO NOT WIND UP IN NO MATTER WHAT.

I think she thought I was joking.

I hope she was paying attention.

Today really iced the damn cake. Today Boyfriend was im-ing with me while talking to the loan processor, loan officer, back to the loan processor who was setting the closing date for later this week when BING we get an email from the realtor announcing the sellers have YET ANOTHER DAMN PROBLEM and we are delayed. AT LEAST TWENTY DAYS. The fuckers.

Anyway. Boo. Boohoo. Blah blah blah.
---
I haven't listened to Leonard Cohen in a long time. I didn't even know who Leonard Cohen was when Boyfriend and I got together.

We dubbed the 'apartment' where he lived then the Chelsea Hotel. Because it would drive someone to do heroin if they lived there long enough I think.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,

Because it was old and small and we had a lot of sex there.

And drank tequila. And other stuff. And cooked dinner on hot plates.

A friend called me in the middle of the night there once. She is better now.

I smoked cigarettes inside for the only time in my life there.

I quit being a vegetarian there. By roasting a chicken for Thanksgiving dinner. In a toaster oven.

For a few weeks, when we were just getting together, I slept there. Like a normal person. Who sleeps. For multiple hours on end and then wakes up with enough energy to have sex, go running, and then go to work.

And that was called love for the workers in song
probably still is for those of them left.

That was a LONG time ago.

We talked a lot then. We didn't make our relationship public for a long time and we didn't go out and there was no space or furniture or television, so we talked. And we like each other. And we like talking to one another. We would fall asleep and wake up at four just to start talking again.

It was different then.

Although we still eat sushi more than is fiscally practicable.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
you were famous, your heart was a legend.*
---
Tomorrow I have to write a statement of professional objectives.

That is intimidating.

My objective is mostly to have a profession. Because I need one. I am pretty convinced that I will have one of those professions that wind up being sucessful and yield a reasonably sizeable 401k. I am ambitious. I am competitive. I like being able to buy stuff and I am tired of stressing out about money. I'll just do it. Whatever "it" is.

Breaking rocks out here on the chain gang

Breaking rocks and serving my time

 
I will undoubtably spend a large part of that time wishing I could be living a whole different life. I wouldn't much mind a trust fund. Or a rich husband. Or my own winery in the fall with a small cafe that serves gorgeous food out indoors but with big open window walls where you can feel warm fresh air all the time.

I heard the judge say five years

On chain-gang you gonna go

I heard the judge say five years labor

Yeah, but I don't live in Southern California. And I don't go outside that much where I do live. And you can't make wine here or have resturants where window open.

been

working and working

but I still got so terribly far to go**

---

I resent faith. I resent people who have faith. Not just in Jesus. Just Faith. Blind belief of good in the universe, that it comes out in the wash, that the right thing happens in the end. 

I wish I had that I guess. 

Maybe not.

Maybe I used to know how to do that. To let go. 

Now I fret and spend my nights memorizing the ceiling, or the insides of my eyelids, or listening to my baby sleep when I am so privalidged to be able to hear her snores. Or some combination of the three. Or I read. Or I crack out on the internet or Jon and Kate Plus 8 or bad television in general. Or I just lay in bed because I'm so tired that my whole body aches all the time and laying down is better than sitting up. 

Maybe its because I still don't understand the how or the why.

You had and lost the one thing

you kept in a safe place

Maybe its the guilt.

remember the face, the girl who had made you her own

and how you left her alone

Maybe its the fear.

and if you burn the road that'll lead you back to her in time

I'll watch you turn to stone

I really hate three a.m.

*Leonard Cohen, Chelsea Hotel #2

**Nina Simone, Work Song

***Joshua Radin, Star Mile

Boyfriend is better than aveda.

Um. Boyfriend sort of hates me right now. It has to do with potato chips. Whoops.

Boyfriend is awesome.

As are the Aveda products that are springing from every available surface in this hotel room. Yum.

Boyfriend is better than Aveda. Swear to god. Aveda is, presumably, calorie free and totally unwilling to seek out food for me at 11:30pm when all I've eaten for the day is thai noodles at noon.

Thank you.

That is all.

BALTO! *UPDATE! EDITION

We are all sorts of a twitter around here. No good reason. Boyfriend is hanging Christmas lights on a tree in the front yard. I think this has something to do with it. . . also, it is snowing and Boyfriend got the day off on account of it being Veteran's Day and he works for the government at all. I'm halfway surprised he doesn't get the whole week off since we all know how much Sarah LURVES herself some military.

Right now I am thinking about how absurd it would be for me to call this a 'job'. No matter how much I would like to transform this little blog (god, I have always REALLY hated that word) into a paying gig, I currently find myself on a borrowed computer, sitting on a stool at my parents' kitchen table while my child and my father watch BALTO and I get ready to figure out once again what the hell to make everyone for dinner. (I'm feeling like the leftover lasagna and a Cesar salad...did I mention the SNOW?) At any rate, to say that I'm 'working' right at this moment seems a fairly ridiculous thing to claim.

Here is what I did today and got paid equally poorly for:

2:30am Wake up.

4:00am Wake up, finish argument with Boyfriend. More or less resolve argument. More or less.

5:00am Still awake. Make up with Boyfriend.

6:30am Daughter awake...everyone awake.

7:30am Get Daughter dressed for school, get Father ready to leave for work, get as much damn coffee down my throat as is humanly possibly while every fiber of my being begs to go back to bed.

8:00am Explain one last time to Boyfriend how to get to Father's office (via the espresso bar). Boyfriend does not understand exactly. Also does not loose my car so everyone arrives at coffee and office in tact.

8:15am Explain to Boyfriend how to get from Father's office to Daughter's Pre-School. Boyfriend does not understand exactly and raises his voice. I drive off. He does not get lost.

8:30am Drop Daughter at school. Am again amazed that The Glorious Pre-School Teacher is so together and calm and awake at 8:30am.

8:50am Arrive at Service Center. Deposit Father's truck for service (leaking wiper fluid, no functional horn, needs oil change).

9:something-10something am Eat breakfast downtown with Boyfriend. Realize that Father's credit card is missing. Fret and argue a bit about this. Run into my favorite congressional candidate of all time. Am so sad that he he is loosing and that it will take another month before anyone knows anything that I donate another fifty bucks to his campaign when I arrive home later in the day.

10:45am Talk to Father who has missing credit card (which is his in the first place). Drive back to Father's Office. Get card. Boyfriend is introduced all over office as "Our Daughter's Friend". Awesome.

11:00am get car washed. Go to Sears to find the little emergency key for the treadmill which has magically disappeared. Awesome, redux.

11:something Go to Barnes and Nobel with Boyfriend to track down some Joesph Campbell books that his son has requested for his birthday. Find BALTO on dvd for Daughter who has been begging for movie. Should probably be a better parent and save it for Christmas.

12:20pm Pick up Daughter from Pre-School. Immediately tell her that we purchased BALTO.*

12:45-1:30pm Shop at Costco with Daughter and Boyfriend. Try very hard to not kill Boyfriend for his entirely adorable if they were all alone in the store cart derby antics.

2:15pm Unloading groceries. Snow falling heavily.

2:45pm Pack everyone back into car to pick up Father from Doctor Appointment.

3:30-Present Watch/very slightly assist or attempt to assist Boyfriend as he hangs aforementioned Christmas lights. Am snapped at for being critical. Awesome to the fifth goodandgoddamned degree.

Snow continues to fall.

Tempers continue to flair.

Fuck yeah.

Leftovers it is!

On top of all of this I have to watch BALTO. So Awesome I can no longer contain myself and am going to pour a glass of wine. Its a holiday!
___
UPDATE!*
Because, I am sure you wanted this day to continue just as much as I did.

UPDATE!**
In which I caught the house on fire!

UPDATE!***
Just Ugh. Seriously. Ugh.

*
I did reheat the lasagna (which I spent three hours preparing last night. It is one of those primo lasagnas. Okay? We aren't talking Stouffer's, OKAY?)

Boyfriend hung all the Christmas lights on the big tree outside, in the snow. And they look lovely and he got cold. And the damn tree has GROWN and we need more lights.

That is all I have to say about that at the moment.

**
In addition to the lasagna, I made a salad. It was really good. Green leaf lettuce, leeks, yellow bell pepper, three roma tomatoes, goat cheese, and Newman's Own Light Italian Dressing.

Well, there was this leftover sourdough bread from original lasagna dinner last night. And I can't eat it, but I didn't want it to go to waste, so I did what I have done literally 200 damn times and made croutons. cubed it, tossed it with EVOO, a couple of spices, some parm, some salt and pepper. When I pulled the reheated lasagna out of the oven, I tossed the croutons in. I set it to Broil and went to toss the salad. Now, in the 200 damn times I have done this previously, in the time it takes the oven to heat from 425 to 500 the salad gets tossed, the lasagna gets cooled, and the croutons get toasted perfectly.

Today, when the buzzer went off and I turned around, well, the oven was ON FIRE. FIRE! FLAMES! And then I opened the door and it was like fucking BACKDRAFT or something. and then we all did that like three times or something before I hit the whole thing with the fire extinguisher. Which, I'm pretty sure, more or less ruined the oven. Sweet Christ! Also, the entire house filled with smoke and not a single smoke alarm in the house went off. Not one. Like a cloud of smoke in the house and NO ALARM. That is comforting.

So, I blasted the flames while Daughter was dancing around singing I Love Fire! I Love Fire! Boyfriend was going on about how it would die out. Father was just progressively more agitated.

Which leads directly to ...

***
Ugh. Just. Ugh. Is this damn day over yet?

You don't even want to know about Dinner. Or Post Dinner. I promise you. You don't want to know.

on feeling jinxy

So, tomorrow, there is something happening tomorrow...I can't quite put my finger on it, but I know there is like an event or a thing or OH! WAIT! The ELECTION!

As I have already noted (here) I voted a couple of weeks ago, so tomorrow is more about doing some volunteer stuff, hanging out with Daughter, and getting my hair done than actual work for the first time in a looooooooong time. Also, Boyfriend arrives late tomorrow night and we are staying in a hotel for the night downtown on the off chance that we decide to stay up ridiculously late and socialize with other hyped up political types until far to late in the evening/morning.

I've got to tell you, I don't really feel like it. I don't really want to go wave signs tomorrow morning (at 7am). I don't really want to go to the party and watch the first returns come in with my favorite congressional candidate of all time and his loyal supporters. I really don't want to go to Election Central and see everyone. I really, really, really don't feel up to heading over to the bar after Election Central to watch the rundown on the televisions there. I really don't feel up to it.

I do feel like getting my haircut.

I do feel like dropping off my kid, picking up some sushi, and curling up in that hotel room with a remote control and eventually a man I haven't seen in a month.

I don't feel like I have a place out and about tomorrow night. I don't feel like I've earned a spot at the party or a seat at the bar. I haven't actually DONE anything this time around. I put up some yard signs and staffed some tables and a couple of events last summer. I've consulted on a race for the past year in Sitka. I gave a lot of money I didn't really have available to a bunch of candidates, but I haven't been busting my ass to try and get anyone elected. I haven't been putting in the unbelievable amount of time that all these others have and I'm embarrassed. I don't want to have to talk to anyone.

I don't want to stumble over what it is I am DOING with myself these days.

The truth is, I'm not doing much and it is really hard to come up with an answer that doesn't make me sound like a total drop out from society.

I encounter this problem fairly routinely. At the grocery store, at the gym, at the coffee bar, at wherever it is I find myself where I run into someone I know/have known/went to school with/is friends or acquaintances or colleges of one of my parents... I'm really not doing anything. I'm living at my parents' house. I'm taking care of my kid. I'm serving as my parents' personal shopper, chauffeur, and caterer. I'm waiting around to see when and if my Boyfriend will arrive. I'm totally out of money. Totally. I'm freaking out about money. And about having to get a job. And about the time sacrifice that is going to mean to my Daughter. And about how much she really truly needs me around right now and more than that WANTS me around right now. And how even though she sleeps at her Dad's house three nights a week I'm with her everyday for at least a part of the day except every other Sunday. I sacrificed a lot of time with her for the first two years of her life. It wasn't exactly voluntary, but I made choices and those choices did not often allow for us to see each other everyday of the week. I don't think I could survive that again and I know it would be hard on her. I know that, at this point, any "Mom Time" that falls by the wayside because of a job is going to affect her and not for the better.

The guilt of knowing that something is going to have to change soon is overwhelming and paralytic.

There are some bright spots.

Boyfriend's job has been transferred up here for the rest of the year, so he will be here, living here after tomorrow. That was a major obstacle that I've been waiting out since last summer and I'm relieved that its over now. Of course, the next step is just as hard; now we all have to reintegrate back into the relationship and its been a couple of months and it is never easy. But, he came through. He stepped up and is relocating his life to be here with us (IN. MY. PARENTS. HOUSE. nonetheless...at least for the time being) and he even made it five days prior to my emotionally distraught deadline, so, there is hope.

We have tickets to travel at Christmas. Boyfriend, his Son, Daughter, and I.

The damn election is almost over and Sarah damn Palin might just loose and that would be such a sweet, sweet victory.

I get to go to Seattle at least once and maybe twice this month. That pleases me to no end.

Daughter will be here, with us, for all of next week as Her Dad is going to be away on a business trip.

These are all good things. These are all hope filled things.

Goddamn, I don't want to jinx anything, (Internet, you have no IDEA how TERRIFIED I am of jinxing this thing) but there is a really good chance we could elect Barack Obama President of the United States tomorrow. Tomorrow! I think that would be enough to carry me through for awhile. I need something to believe in, something to have a little faith in, something to point to and say Hot Damn! Everyone does not in fact suck. And so, I sit here typing with fingers crossed and vote cast. Trying to squelch my inner cynic. Trying to give myself until Wednesday to figure out what to do with my life.

It is snowing outside. Just a little. Maybe it will keep coming down and everything will look pretty again. Maybe come Wednesday the world will actually be a little bit prettier of a place.

NaBloPoWhoa!

November 1st is here and here I am posting my first (of thirty. whoa.) straight posts to celebrate NaBloPoMo.

I'm sure a fair amount of this week will be dedicated to the upcoming election. I'll probably be loosing my mind all over the Internet on Tuesday as that is how I typically spend the doom and gloom downtime that generally absorbs my election days. Maybe it will be different this year. I'm not "working" on a campaign for the first time in SIX years, so all I have to do is wave a sign for a couple hours in the morning then I'm getting my haircut and have Daughter all afternoon. Then I'm going to an Election Night party and Election Central and then, almost inevitably, to Election Central 2.0 (aka the bar across the street from Election Central where we all end up because it is full of televisions).

Boyfriend arrives on a flight just before 11pm on Election Night too. (Yay!)

Which leads to what you can expect here Wednesday: A Hungover Post Election Post. I can almost guarantee this as a) well, I remember last day after election day...well, I vaguely remember it. . . b) I haven't been to a bar since, probably, April. Oh, no, that's a lie. I went out after the Primary last summer and well...as I don't have scotch at home well...hangover... and finally c) I've never, ever, won big on Election Night. I typically endure a pretty painful loss (or six) and I'm still freaking out about the fact that of the 6 races that I'm really interested and/or involved in I am pretty confident about taking at least three and there is a possibility that they may ALL go my way and I really don't think that I can survive that having some sort of an aneurysm.

After that, Thursday and Friday are kind of foggy. I'll either be moving on, elated, or well, pretty seriously depressed and blaming Boyfriend for all of it. (Yes, Internet, here is a confession. . . Boyfriend works for Her. And I choose to hold him personally responsible when it comes to all things Sarah that annoy the holy living shit out of me.)

At any rate. I'm excited to be here. I was pretty pumped when I discovered NaBlo last year. A whole month with TONS to read! It was about six months after I came upon the glorious world of the mommyblogs, a twist of online fate for which I will be eternally grateful and undoubtedly expounding upon this month.

Ok! Feeling Good! Day one is done! Whoot!

A little bit brutal, a little bit rock and roll

Today was a little bit brutal, a little bit rock and roll.

Daughter had a really rough handover at Dad's House. Half and hour of clingy "I want Mommy-ness" that ended in a tear and holler fest. Which left me, in tears, in the car. Because there wasn't really anything I could do to make it better. And I don't live there. And I had to leave. And she wasn't going to stop crying as long as I was there. And I desperately didn't want her dad and I to start snapping at each other. And I it all just felt like shit.

With a side of FAIL.

We were a little bit early (ten minutes I think) and Daughter had fallen asleep in the car. She woke up when we arrived, but was in good spirits until we got into the entry way where she tossed her jacket on the floor and refused to remove her arms from around my neck while starting to whimper. I did not want to leave her dad's girlfriend with two kids of her own, dinner in the works, and my kid freaking out, so I offered to stay until she was comfortable. Her dad didn't get home until almost 5:30. I was there for about 25 minutes. It was ok. We mom chatted a little. The little boy is adorable. The baby is HUGE, in the most gorgeous 6 week old, fifteen pound baby sort of a way.

(I want to go on record as saying how lovely it was to spend 20 minutes watching her "mother" today. She's a pro and so calm and confident and able to seamlessly break away in all the ways that I struggle with. I just wanted to say, we can talk "Mom" and she is a genuinely fabulous mother. If ever comes the day when they are reading this most random of random websites. I wanted to say that. In all of its pith and anonymity.)

It feels a lot like a no win situation for me over there. Its just weird. I know my eyes catch on stuff that used to belong to me or remembering the painting or the toy that I bought that is sitting outside with a 12pack of beer on the porch or how hot it is. Maybe its just my personal discomfort.

Anyway Daughter, who I thought would be thrilled as usual to see her dad and get over the clingy weapiness in pieces when I passed her off to Dad. She was crying and hollering and just in despair. And it was awful. And painful. And she was still totally loosing her shit when I passed her off to Dad. And she was still totally loosing her shit when I put on my shoes and said goodbye to her most adorable, nearly two year old brother, and she was still loosing her shit her shit when on the porch and the other side of the door I felt the tears well up in my eye.

I drove around the corner before really loosing my own personal shit because my car was parked where she could see it from her bedroom window.

I spent five hours with Daughter today and we had a blast. We danced and did art and played blocks and decided that she would dress up as a Bella Kitty* for Halloween.

She is at the most adorable point where she can hear a song once and know all the words. She danced (DANCED!) her heart out to all the Enchanted songs while picking up her blocks and tool truck toys from the living room floor.

Good god. I just love her so much and am so devastated by her genuine wanting tonight. I spent five hours with Daughter today and have spent six hours writing this post.

And I'm just so sorry.

I'm just so profoundly sorry that she has to juggle two houses and Mom Day and Dad Days and School Days and Girlfriend and Boyfriend and brothers and everything all in one life.

And, Daughter, I'm just so sorry. Its not so bad really. There are all of these people who love you so much, but I'm sorry that the simple story, the easy choice, wasn't a feasible option. Its not worse, the choices that we made. It wouldn't be better to go through a divorce now, or five years from now. It was the right choice. It was the right choice. It was. And most days everyone is happy. And everyone loves you. I love you more than you will ever, ever know. And I am so deeply sorry for all of your tears. I am so very cut to the core. You, my perfect, darling baby are my one true thing and someday you will realize that your mother has truly failed you in a whole lot of ways and I will never, ever forgive myself for any single one of them, but I do honestly believe that you will thrive in your life and goddamn, I'm not going anywhere. I won't break that promise.

Oh, Winter. . .

I am not ready for real winter to be here. I realize that I have mentioned this before. It seems that we are really in for it this year.

Daughter and I had a good time with the new saucer sled in the backyard yesterday. She was better decked out in winter wear than I was and would have stayed out a lot longer if she had been given the option.

I swear, I really am trying to make the best of it. Seriously. I am. I had a very in depth discussion last night (by discussion, I mean gchat) with a friend of mine who is a serious skier (here, which I did not know is not in Vermont) and got some good tips on getting skis and who to talk to at REI to get cheep stuff that will work for my beginner self. I already have boots. That's a step in a direction if I do say so myself.

It isn't as though I haven't done winter before. I've lived in Alaska for 17 years. (Whoa.) Winter keeps coming back around every six months or so. Its the way it works. I understand this. I'm not surprised by it.

I just do not enjoy it very much.

And this year it is much, much earlier than it has been in quite sometime. Which means that we are in for a long haul and I am trying to make peace with that. I am trying. I am trying. I am trying.

I think that, in addition to the winter being early there are a lot (A LOT!) of loose ends and much uncertainty floating around in my life at the moment which is making me crabby and anxious. What is that, Internet, you would like an accounting of the things that are making me buggy. Well, if you insist:

1. I am living at my parents' house for starters. I'm not just 'staying' here. I'm LIVING here. Which I swore (SWORE) I would not ever do ever again. It looks like Daughter and I will be here well into 2009. I am daunted by this prospect. I am disheartened by this prospect. I am really tired of my parents having a great deal of power over my life and being oh so generous with their opinions. Yes, I sound like an ungrateful ass. Noted.

2. In addition to living at my parents' house, I am driving my dad's car. Which means I am doing a lot of chauffeuring and asking permission to go places.

3. Boyfriend is still living where we used to live, instead of here. He has to get a job here before he can move. The apartment where we lived is in a building that has been sold and the new owners are moving into his place on November 1st. Which means that he will still be there, but doesn't have a place to stay. Its all very up in the air and stress inducing and frustrating and really frightening. I'm really concerned about the level of stress that we are operating under, long distance, indefinitely. Its not good. We have spent a tremendous amount of time apart since we got together. We were seeing each other for about 3 months before I left town. Then apart for three months. Then I was staying with him, but out of town a LOT for four months. Then my dad got sick and I was here for three months. Then we moved into the apartment together in May and Daughter and I moved back here the first week of September. I would say we have spent as much time apart in our relationship as we have spent together. And that sucks. And I'm really, really tired of it. And really, really ready to settle into a life together. And I have a really, really short fuse when it comes to a lot of these things and that is not at all helpful.

4. It is campaign season. This generally increases my mental stress load tenfold. Of course this happened. So I would say my blood pressure is right up there with Dick Cheny's these days.

5. I don't have a job and I need to get one and getting one means that I am going to have to sacrifice time with Daughter and that breaks my heart into 47 pieces (I've counted them) and I just don't know what to do.

6. I am not sleeping well.

7. It is possible that I have a lingering medical condition that I am choosing to ignore which is based in part due to my lack of medical insurance and in part because I don't want to deal with it.

8. There is six inches of snow on the ground. I mean, seriously.

I think that eight is enough, don't you?

59:59

Well, I'll be damned.

I ran a full hour yesterday. Voluntarily and everything. I am bursting with pride in myself. Sorry, but I totally am. I didn't know that I could do that. I totally kicked ass.

I out ran the stopwatch function on my running watch, which only goes to 59:59.

I went running on Saturday on the trails behind my high school do do a little hill work and got lost. I wound up running for 55 minutes, rather than my usual 40 and I felt pretty good at the end of it, so I decided that I would shoot for upping the ante to 60 minutes for my Monday, Pre-preschool pick up run.
(Reader's Note: I was not a runner in high school. I used to hang out on the side of the old gym at the head of this trail system and smoke cigarettes in the dark before school, so I know where the START, but not where the GO exactly.)

My weekday runs here are almost all exclusively on this trail. It is pretty and not super hard. It is fairly well populated, so I am not nervous about running alone, but it is not overcrowded when I run as pick up is 12:30. I mostly get to run there because of its proximity to pre-school. I can get back in the car and be at the front door in anywhere between 30 seconds and 5 minutes depending on where I am parked along the trail.

In preparation for the NEW! LONG! RUN! I decided to treat myself to an updated iPod play list and new earphones. The ones that I bought last summer have been royally sucking lately and requiring significant mid stride readjustments to keep them in place. To much hassle. I settled on these and they ROCKED.

Running is just about the only time I get to rock out to loud music anymore and I cherish that about the time. I'm a little afraid that I can be seen mouthing the words to The Boss by most everyone I pass by, but I can't really be bothered with those types of details.

Anyway, I parked perfectly and added exactly ten minutes to my outbound time. Which meant that I hit the 30 minute mark at my turn around point rather than 20.

I am pretty slow and have become a fairly steady runner. Thirty minutes out means 30 minutes back. I was concentrating on going slow too, so as not to burn out before I hit my goal. Anyway, long story short and with much help from Bruce and the Badlands (repeated three times between minutes 42 and 52) I totally hit my time and I overshot just a bit at the end. I also had the pleasure of passing a bunch of people including no fewer than six other runners (well, three and a group of three) and seeing two sets of walkers twice. The new headphones were a smash success and although I should have had the sense to wear gloves when it was still frosty out at 11:20 when I set out, I did not get too cold.

I have no real idea of how far I went, but I would figure it at about 8 minute miles which would make for a 7.5 mile run.

I had an actual appetite for the first time in a long time.

I feel better today after the much longer run than I usually feel after the 40 minute runs. Perhaps I was going slower? Or I got into a better stride over the longer distance? I don't really know what the deal is. Feels good though. Strong.

I want to be able to run 10 miles by my birthday (Dec. 14th. . . you can send me a Wii or an iPhone if you insist...or a house...or a new car...you know, its the little things that count.) And I want to run a half marathon while we are on vacation in March in SoCal. (Yes, yes, I KNOW about the Disney Princess Half. No, no, I will NOT be doing that one.)

Anyway, it is not often that I am bursting with personal pride. So I relished this one a little.
---
In Other News:

I was hauled out to a fundraiser this morning at seven am. Seriously, seven am. No, I don't know why I agreed to go. Yes, it was sort of nice to see some of those people. Also, I got a lead on a job that I would possibly enjoy very much.
-
Daughter is still sick and did not go to pre-school today. She is still surviving on a diet primarily composed of popcicles, 'taco chips' (READ: Half a hard taco shell. We were out of tortilla chips.) , storybooks, and The Lion King.
-
Also! Boyfriend has meetings in town Thursday and Friday so he is flying up tomorrow and staying until Sunday night. Sweet!

Happy Tuesday!