I threw out my running log today.

Hah! I'm so melodramatic. I'm not stopping running, I'm just gonna stop expecting myself to run 5 times a week. Consequently I'm also gonna stop feeling guilty and lazy when I'm too tired to run after working 10 hours or after working 8 hours then going to school or after working 6 hours then going to school then going to choir. Fun. I'm also not going to run a marathon in may. I just can't. I will be taking two courses and working full time in fucking RRSP season. Squeezing marathon training in is not a realistic expectation. Is not a reasonable expectation. Is not. Okay brooke? Is. Not.

What is: going to the gym twice a week and doing weights and some kind of cardio - maybe running, but if I'm zonked and want to read, maybe the bike or something. And running around the lake on saturdays, because that's fun. 12 or 13 miles a week, not 30 or 35. 3 days, not 7. Okay little brain?

Then maybe I have time to play guitar! And sleep. And be my awake self.

Christ it's hard to cut things out. It is so hard to say "I need to do less." Because it's so nice to think "I am doing all these things! I am amazing!" Yeah well, being well-rested enough not to go SNAP is amazing too.

"I blew it away with a shot from my crotch cannon."

Okay, the later Stainless Steel Rat books have pretty much COMPLETELY given up being reasonable. Hee hee hee. Crotch cannon.

This morning I had dreams. Four of them, short but long. Between hitting snooze 5 times. I like having dreams. Heh, maybe because it makes me feel productive, like sleep isn't a TOTAL waste of time. Well no. I like them because they're so strange. They surprise me. There's this secret and foreign country inside me somewhere that I may never have total access to or understanding of. It gives me faith that life will be full of tricks and wonders. Because check it out! this awesome random number generator is standard equipment! Hah!

Having a party tomorrow. Must finish superhero cape. I have a glove in the freezer, full of bloody-looking grape juice. I decided not to put a note on it, even though I really don't want boy to touch it before it's frozen in to a hand shape. Because actually I would get so much MORE entertainment value out of boy not knowing about it, opening the freezer and going "WHAT THE FUCK THERE'S A HAND!" Although it will probably be more like "Oh, a hand. I'll put the perogies on the other side." Sigh!