"Spider-Pig, Spider-Pig..."

In an epic feat of time management skills, I coordinated laundry, a run and a shower in the span of an hour and a half last night, then headed uptown to R’s apartment where he was cooking us dinner. Smart man – the quickest way to my heart is through my stomach, and dinner was delicious.

We relaxed for a bit, then met up with Coach G and M for the Simpson’s Movie. My expectations were low given the recent suckiness of the show, but I was surprised by how hard I laughed. Afterward we made a vague stab at sobriety, even going so far as to look for an ice cream shop, but at 11:30 on a Monday night the only open places were bars. We quickly found ourselves in a New Orleans-themed dive on the Upper West Side where the wall behind the bar was proudly decked with lacy bras drunkenly discarded by their now-unsupported owners. If my memory serves me, one of my former teammate’s bra hangs among them, but that is unconfirmed. After a few beers and a round of pool, Coach G ordered a “mystery pitcher” that tasted like KoolAid mixed with the entire bottom shelf of the bar, and we drank it straight from the pitcher through tall colorful straws. Yes, I am aware that it was Monday. Don’t judge me.

Whenever the four of us go out, we play two games of darts or pool and invariably tie. R and I usually take the first game, but then M stops hitting the backboard and starts hitting bull’s-eyes and she and Coach G gloat about their win like crazy. Tied at one pool game apiece last night, we played a tie breaker and R and I made a valiant comeback to emerge Champions of the World. Oh yeah, it was a shining moment for us, complete with victory dance. But our Skinny Runners Drinking Quartet is coming to an end; M left today for grad school, rendering Coach G partner-less in bar games. We’ll have to work on our recruiting skills.

Ugh, this day is dragging. I haven’t done any work since I helped Easy mop up the coffee that he spilled all over his desk. I’m quite possibly the highest paid cleaning lady in the country. And I wonder why I’m rarely motivated to put on nice work clothes, slap on a little mascara, blow dry my hair and generally look like I care about this job. Changing out of my flip-flops into dress shoes is the extent of my efforts. But maybe it goes hand-in-hand, like if I iron a dress shirt and wear a pencil skirt and pumps, will I feel more motivated to submit Easy’s expense report, or order Easiest new business cards? Probably not, but I’d look corporate-hot, which is motivation in its own right, I suppose.

Let's end this humid Tuesday with a little gander at my Horoscope:

“…Additionally, with the Moon and Mars in your 6th House of Health, it may be time to take care better care of yourself physically by paying more attention to all aspects of personal hygiene, diet, and exercise.”

Ok, I get it, Universe. I’ll clean up my act…

…next week.