Dichroic Reflections

I ate a mutant

I can't say I'm thrilled at the idea of doing a marathon tomorrow. At least if I finish this one I can be relatively confident of finishing the one on the water in November. (Assuming Natchitoches, Lousiana is spared by this wretched hurricane season.) Rudder is probably even less thrilled about tomorrow, because he's got some kind of head cold or allergy thing going on. (On the other hand, he's the one who's organized this for the third year in a row, so he's got only himself to blame!) There's a faint possibility some local reporter will come out for the event, too (apparently, 8-10 people crazy enough to row a marathon indoors are newsworthy), so I may just end up in the local news. If so, I'm hoping for newspaper rather than TV, in the hopes that no one will have to look at me in spandex, sweat running down my back, and an expression on my face or either vacant stupor or teeth-gritting pain.

It's been a rough and tiring week, overall. Aside from some needed food-shopping, I may well spend Sunday in bed or on the sofa doing nothing more athletic than knitting or reading. I'd like to get my baby blanket done before its intended recipients (rather, their prospective parents) move across the country, but it may not be possible.

And what does it mean when, on Friday of a rough week, depressed that you can't even look forward to the weekend. you go to the admin's desk to get a couple of M&Ms to cheer yourself up and the little gumball machine they're in disgorges a mutant M? It had a bump of candy coating sticking out one side, white at the tip - either a horn or a zit, depending on how you prefer to look at it. (Having eaten it myself, I prefer to think of it as a horn. Less gross.)