skivvies snarfing down leftover lasagna.
This unfortunate scenario -- sorry for the visual, folks -- was set in
motion this afternoon when I came to realize the stick time session at
the Pasadena rink was canceled to accomodate a figure skating
competition. So I decided to go for a little 11.5 mile "jog" to South
Pas and back, seeing how my first half marathon is approaching in
I ran it in about 1 hour 51 minutes -- not bad for me -- but didn't
finish up until 9 pm. I treated myself to a double-double, "Curb Your
Enthusiasm," and "Entourage" (memo to Eric: for the sake of male
viewers, please bed your red-headed assistant) and then tried to call
it a night.
Wrong! I'm wired.
And, tonight I'm also famished. So it's lasagna time. Plus I'm double-
fisting 'Dunkers' from Trader Joes. And I'm thinking about a little
early morning NHL Channel, although I know if I turn on the TV The
Girlfriend will kick my ass in the am for making too much noise.
That's all. I just wanted to get it on the record that it's always
totally fair to blame figure skaters for your personal problems. Stick
time would have been over by 6:30 and I'd be snoozing by now. But