so, following ANOTHER night of toolateloudShebitch-It was yelling after midnight (mental Bitch), there I am @ the Mulcahy's run. See Pret and co warming up, when...lo n' behold, Tom calls asking wassup. He forgot the run was @ 8 am, so he did it as a bandit. Of course I told him the way my luck was running he'd win a raffle despite lacking a bib.
Ran the first mile with him, bless him, then the next 1 1/2 getting in Pret's way. Yes, as a New Yorker, whatever road I'm on is MY road. Almost kept up with Pret, beat me by 13 secs per mile.
Then, hadda boogie n' hit the job-shit hitting the fan.
Can you BELIEVE construction is gonna f up the basement for another week. Now...take a moment...think. Where does the Christmas party occur. Exactly. We're fucked. Ho ho.
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