come to find out this new england gal really does think the south was wrong

It's 42 degrees and raining.  When I went to bed last night, at the relatively early time of 12am, I had grand plans of a run.  After my third night in a row of interrupted bad sleep the temperature and rain were the perfect excuse for me to skip.  I remember when neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night would keep me from a run.  I remember how energetic and healthy I felt.  I'm the only person who is able to get myself back there.  I'm determined to do it.

I'm fairly certain this is the 9,786th time I've said that on this blog.  

My week of flying solo at my job turned into my week of flying solo at my job with my boss unexpectedly not there either which resulted in people calling in sick.  (Why is it that when the boss is away people call in sick?  I mean, it's not like the boss isn't going to know you weren't there.  And when you do it every.single.time it starts to feel like maybe you aren't really sick, but rather too stupid to realize you aren't really getting away with anything.  Especially when you call in two days in a row.  Thereby giving yourself a 4 day weekend.  Not that I'm talking about anyone specific...)  I, for the most part, told myself and everyone else that I was fine.  I could not possibly do all of the extra work that was now heaped upon the department.  I am but one person.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to really convince myself of that hence the lack of sleep.  Thankfully, my right hand is back today. The relief I feel is palpable.  

It's also been a week of being insanely social:  dinner with Travistina on Friday followed by drinks for a birthday Friday night followed by a Barnes and Noble party Saturday night followed by an unexpected 1 1/2 hours in a car with a coworker Monday night for a viewing followed by a home cooked supper with Erika last night. Just about every single one of those things was a last minute addition to my life.  I used to be a crazy social planner.  Come to find out life is a little more fun when you don't obsessively plan every single detail.

Sunday night we stumbled upon Ken Burns' The Civil War on PBS.  In a choice between Fox Sunday and a history lesson, the history lesson won out in our house.  We've attempted to watch this series 3 times.  Each time it has felt like a chore.  This time I got hooked.  It helps that I'm also reading Native Son.  As Frederick Douglass waxes poetic about the glorious future of the freed slave in America, I'm reading about a 1930s black man whose life has been shaped by the color of his skin.  Wright does an amazing job of really talking about race relations in this country.  Sadly, I think a lot of it is still relevant.  Plus, I can't help but love all of the Communists-are-evil-but-come-to-find-out-they're-the-only-one's-who-can-help-and-relate-to-the-oddly-sympathetic-murderer.

Next up to read:  Either The Sociopath Next Door-I suspect it will help me in my work.  Seriously.  I cannot tell you how many people I encounter in a work day who are most likely sociopaths.  Maybe I can learn to be more sympathetic or just not take things so personally-or The Imperfectionists-A recommendation from the Nook guy from B&N I met Saturday night.  An "alternately hilarious and heart-wrenching" novel about the death of print journalism sounds right up my alley.