Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Tired Beastie

I slept funky last night, as I often do. It took forever to fall asleep, despite being pretty exhausted. This is in part because I think I have a family of these in my attic:
Aww. Cute. Now leave my house.

The other night Nick gave me the awesome mental image of whatever is living in my attic walking up next to the bed and scratching my leg. In his description, it would touch my leg really sweetly, but my weird brain couldn't erase that image as I laid in bed last night. I also abstained from my normal nightly search of the house, including closets, because I've decided that's the thing that really sets me apart as being a weirdo..... yeah. The mental movie that replays regarding that is someone will wait until my heat turns on, because my heat pump is SUPER loud, and then sneak up and kill me. And obviously, they've been lingering somewhere in my house, watching me shower, eat, and generally be oblivious, but they wait to attack me until I'm asleep...and my heat turns on.

Stop being so damn creative, brain.

Also fun is that my Comcast cable has been possessed lately. It almost never starts up, I cannot access OnDemand without disconnecting my HD receiver and plugging it back in. I need to call Comcast and just cut the cord, because I'm just about done with that frustration. The other night, I got home and, since I had run the day before, I wanted to do one of the OnDemand workouts. I was psyched, got all dressed, and then it didn't work. And even after unplugging and replugging and doing a special dance and cussing, it still didn't work. Sigh. So I went to pump up my bike tires.

Now in a wide range of tool-y fluorescent colors!

Again, all dressed and ready. I started pumping. I got one tire in, and the second one just wouldn't hold pressure. To top it off, my vigorous pumping broke the damn bike pump. Arg. I ended up doing some made up Tabata intervals, making myself feel like a slug, and being grumpy.

Long story short, I'm easily frustrated and should probably stick to running. And sleeping.

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