Last night as I was all settled in bed, nearly asleep, Hubs climbed in next to me and whispered, "I'm leaving for work at 6:30 tomorrow morning."
Well, if that isn't going to wake a lady right up.
"What?" I nearly bellowed. "I won't be able to run."
"Just get up earlier."
"Really? Just get up earlier? (does this man not know me at all?!?) And you decided to wait until 10:30 at night to tell me this?"
Yeah, we had an argument about running. It was a fun time.
I guess not really an argument, but it sucked and I didn't run this morning.
On non-running days I don't wake up until 6:45. Hubs came in to kiss me good-bye before he left for work and I happened to glance at the clock and it was 6:42.
Let me repeat that. Hubs didn't leave for work until almost 6:45.
Which means I. Could. Have. Gone. For. My. Run.
Oh lordie, I was livid. LIVID I tell you. Flames were shooting out of the side of my face.
It was a bad start to the morning. Tons of things went wrong. I spilled a cup of juice. My tights, my new tights that I just purchased in size Giganto are tight and roll over at the waist. If that isn't one of the most uncomfortable feelings. Sigh.
I was running late for work so I didn't have time to make breakfast. I barely had time to throw together a Crockpot meal. And the boys were up when I left for work so I got to leave them crying on my mother.
All in all, it has been one swell morning.
I blame Hubs. If I had run this morning THINGS WOULD BE DIFFERENT.
Now, excuse me while I go growl at someone else.