Basking in a Post-Vacation Glow

After a week in sun-soaked Daytona Beach, you’d think coming home to this dreary Toronto weather would have me in a serious funk. But, honestly? It doesn’t. I don’t know if I’m still riding a high from such a fab vacation (the perfect combination of running around, doing touristy things & lazing around doing S.F.A.) that I just can’t bother to be annoyed with the crap weather and the fact that I’m back at work. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

But, seriously, how can you be uptight & irritated when you were able to witness THIS for an entire week?

I even (for the very first time EVER, I might add) got off my arse & worked out 3 times during my week away. I’ve packed gym clothes in the past (such adorably misguided intentions), but never actually took them out of my suitcase once firmly ensconced in vacation mode. This time, though? I TOTALLY took advantage of the fact that I could run along the beach at 8:30am, wearing my summer running gear. How could I not? Would I ever have been kicking myself now, if I’d let that opportunity pass me by (especially since my 10k training begins on Monday… in all this sloppy mess.)

How can you not smile when THIS is your running course?

…and this is where you get to dip your tootsies afterward?

Or, when you’ve decided you’d like to give another form of exercise a go, you can swim laps… OUTSIDE.

Or you get to witness once-in-a-lifetime events like THIS? (I’m pretty sure a surgical procedure will be the only way to remove LX’s smile after this day.)

Not a horrible way to spend a week, right? Here’s hoping Spring gets here before the shine wears off.

Monday Morning Rebellion

Well hello there, Monday, you ugly & merciless henchman of the Universe. It appears you’ve returned – yet again – to rip me from the comfort & safety of my Real World and deposit me back into the land of editing & marketing-speak. Why, oh why do you insist on doing this to me on such a constant and unrelenting basis? I’ve never wronged you, oh mighty Universe. Ok, maybe there was that one time when…

What’s that? A paycheque, you say? I don’t care about your stupid paycheque. Oh wait – crap – yes, I do.

But if I didn’t have a mortgage to pay, you can rest assured I’d be ready, willing & able to stick it to the Man.

What? Too old to pull of that sort of rebellious, 20-something, idealistic prattle? Fine. But I would, too. Stick it to the Man, that is. You don’t know. I can rebel with the best of them. Well, in my head I can. In my head I’m a rock star, a published novelist, a Marathon champion & Nobel Laureate. For now I’ll go edit the bajeezus out of a Christmas ad campaign. But I’ll be back. Count on it.