Oscar

I suppose that since last week was Sesame Street's anniversary, it's appropriate that I spent the weekend feeling like Oscar the grouch. Sunday I had planned to go to a book tour event for Cake Wrecks (one of my favorite blogs (http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/). They were giving out wristbands (so said the website) starting at 10. Since I like to get my workout out of the way before I settle down to have fun for the day I decided to get up early and run with the Framingham Running Club. They have a group run every Sunday at 8:30, and I can't usually motivate myself to be there so early on a weekend, despite the fact that I'm starved for running partners and good trail runs (they provide both).

Despite the fact that it was an amazing beautiful day (sunny, warm, Indian summer), I was not happy. I felt like people were crowding me (I even snapped at one guy), and then 5 minutes later felt like people were ignoring me. I was annoyed when the leader decided to take us on an extra mile loop. Instead of kicking my way through the leaves, I grumbled at them for hiding potentially treacherous rocks. As I wheezed my way uphill, I wanted to be going down. As my ankles rolls sliding down hills, I wanted to be going up. Nothing was making me happy.

So when I got back in my car and saw a phone full of text messages from my friends who I was supposed to meet (they had gone early to get bracelets and found out that the bookstore had changed their plans), I was unexplainable angry. Somehow I felt like they were blaming me? Instead of meeting them for breakfast as planned, I told them to go without me. Instead of a big plate of chocolate chip pancakes at a table with friends, I had cold cereal on my couch alone. Then I went to Cake Wrecks and sat in the corner and stewed. Stupid I know. But I just couldn't get myself out of the trashcan of doom.