Cathartic Stress Releasing Strides
Yay, get real Thursdays. I promised I’d be funny after a few serious ones, but I’m sorry…I’m just crabby. So you’ll get a crabtastic post, but hey at least it’s real.
Tuesday was long, long, long….leading to a long, long, Wednesday.
Tuesday evening ended with a fab (might I add adult conversation filled) dinner with Skinny Runner, Monica, & Heather at Souplantation. I returned home only to find that the all you can eat buffet had rendered the zipper on my pants defunct (for the love of the land I had eaten boatloads of salad..okay and a few cookies). Seriously, the whole zipper had ripped out of my pants.
By the time I snuggled into bed I thought I was over the day’s frustrations, but at 12:15 am I realized – notsomuch. As I tossed and turned in bed the frustrations of the day were still weighing on my mind.
Then my fabulous kids (have I mentioned lately how much I love them!) played a fantastic prank on me.
One of them had set it so that at 12:53 am Calvin Harris
tried abruptly rused me from my almost sleep when my iPhone started blaring “Feel So Close to You”.
#awesomesauce. The only person I felt closer to at that moment was my iraging inner self who considered grounding my kids until they can legally buy me a glass of wine.
I woke up FAR too early on Wednesday (Dear son, 4:54 is not a great time to need a Kleenex and scream for it) and decided I was trading in my classypants for crabbypants for the day.
World be warned.
Mentally and emotionally I was busted up so I did what every woman in their 30’s does- called their mom whined, complained, almost yelled, etc. I think she put the phone down and went and got a latte or something while I ranted.
Somehow in my crazy day I squeezed in a quick, but mentally and emotionally necessary run. And I felt so much better.
After, I called mumsie poo and told her it wouldn’t be necessary to call the police as I won’t be going postal in a McDonald’s and that I had sweat out most of my excessive emotion. Only the unexaggerated ones were left. She was uber relieved or at least pretended to be.
I also realized I need new running shoes. I have a coupon for Road Runner burning a hole in my pocket for this weekend and I need input. My only rule is minimalist. I’m a heel drop elitist – I think ballet flats are high heels.
What (minimalist) shoes do you love?
How many days can one wear their crabbypants before it’s considered rude?