I stumbled into bed last night at around eleven, sad about the fact that the Cubs couldn’t pull it off (although I did have a lovely time with RB & AS), and full of delicious/terrible things like fake cheese and hot dogs.
Wrigley Field is a dangerous place for dinner.
In any case, I was more tired than usual.
When I woke up this morning at 6:00, I resisted my plan for a run.
Then I realized I had been dreaming about work, and that running a few miles was a better use of my time than risking slipping back into that particular REM cycle.
It’s muggy in my apartment, and it seems like every tree is raining pollen, so I wasn’t surprised that my eyes seemed, well, red.
And stuck together.
I made my way to the bathroom and threw on my running clothes, wondering why my eyes would not stop smarting.
Then, it struck me.
I slept in my GD contacts, something that barely ever happens, even when I’ve had one (or four) too many vodka sodas.
Even when I’m running on zero sleep.
Somehow I always manage to pluck those puppies out of my eyes before crawling to my bed.
But not last night.
So, blind, I resolved to run anyway, hoping that no one would mow me down.
Or suspect me of being a drug addict.
It actually went okay, once I decided to take an old route that wouldn’t make me dependent on street signs of any kind, since I literally could see nothing smaller than a car without my contacts.
And now, with 4 miles down for the day, I’m ready to wade through the humidity to work and then celebrate LW’s b-day tonight with Mexican at Nueva Leon.
I’ll take one of everything, please.
Have a good day chickies!