2004-03-25

Boy, starting a work day with wet feet really puts me in a productive spirit. It�s pissing down rain this morning � infinitely preferable to Tuesday�s snowstorm, granted, but there really isn�t anything more depressing than rain falling on dirty snow. It�s like the climate is saying, �Ah, screw it.� Everything is grey and miserable and cold and wet, as though the weather gods have been reading Sylvia Plath.

At least the rain held off long enough for me to do my morning run, because being up at six-thirty in the morning makes me suicidal enough without added meteorological incentives.

You know what I hate, though? Crossing paths with other runners. They always seem to want to engage in some sort of smug mutual salutation; a little nod and wave that conveys a mixture of �Isn�t it wonderful to be so infinitely superior to the spineless maggots still wallowing in their beds?� and �Ow, my hamstrings.� Look, Spandex Commando, the fact that we are both stupid enough to strap on a pair of cross-trainers long before the remotest inkling of dawn does not make us comrades in arms. I�m only out here to stave off a beer gut, and I�d prefer to pant and flail in peace, thank you. Fuck off.

Anyway, I�m off tomorrow to the City That Never Sucks, otherwise known as Toronto. I hear they�ve got things like sunshine there. I�ll be back to mope at you on Tuesday or thereabouts. Solange!