Fun Night

Boy, was that a fun night. Quite enjoyable if I do say so myself. Mollie, the consultant, was unexpectedly late due to her day going totally wrong. I guess that's Murphy's Law. Poor girl, but she made it, and thankfully all of the ladies stuck it out and were patient, which was greatly appreciated. As expected we have a ton of food left over. I shouldn't even say it's food. It's crap. We're talking cookie sandwiches with melted marshmallows between and a buttload of candy...you know that type of stuff. This sort of stuff should probably be sending me into a coma given that most of the time I try to get no sugar added or sugar free type of stuff (yes, I read about the recent study how sugar replacers will actually make you gain weight....it's not so much about the weight, I just try to limit my sugar intake and when it is sugar I try to make it fruit, etc....of course I have my own indulgences more often than I should.) Anyway, I don't even want to know how much I ate last night. Actually, I know how much I ate. I probably looked like a glutton to everyone, but that's what happens when it's been staring at you all day and you sit down at the table where the food is sitting. I should have told myself, "Step away from the table...." like I tell myself at family gatherings. If I'm not sitting there looking at it, within arms reach, I'm good. More than likely it's a good thing that I took in food so that it absorbed the little bit of alchohol that I took in. I had a cosmopolitan martini, with half the alcohol, but by halfway through I was warm and the room was looking kind of weird. That wore off within a half hour. Thinking ahead, my alcohol intake stopped after my first one....knowing that I was to get up this morning for a long run and also knowing that I didn't want to make a fool out of myself.

Well, it's about that time. According to my house thermometer it looks like it's about 23 degrees out. Weather.com says 15 and feels like 15. Accuweather.com says it's 18 but feels like 8. I don't know who's right, but at this point it doesn't matter. By butt's up and ready to go.