This has got to stop

I've never been one to sleep in. Ever. I was not like my teenage children, who are able to easily sleep in until noon, given the chance. 7AM was the latest for me in most cases. On weekdays, I am up by 5AM. No problem. Same with Sundays since my church administration meetings start at 6AM. Fine with that too. So that leaves me Saturday. One day to try and sleep in til 7AM. That gives me time to get up and meet my 730AM running group. Dare to dream...instead I'm wide awake by 430AM or as in this morning's case, 415AM. I cannot begin to tell you how over this I am...it has got to stop. I'd really prefer NOT to turn to solutions like Ambien or Tylenol PM. I worry that will leave me sluggish for my runs. All I want is one day to sleep in. Just one. How hard is that? Am I asking too much?

Mother Nature, didn't you once say...

Mother Nature, didn't you once say that it's not nice to fool you. I distinctly remember this. You got plenty worked up about it when you got fooled into thinking margarine was butter. This led to a some loud thunderous rage on your part. I fear that the raccoon never got over it. See for yourself, Ma Nature, it's all here:

See, not so happy when the joke's on you, are you, Mother Nature?

So I implore you to not turn the tables on us here in Chicagoland. Please. Because if you are fooling us, then today was an exercise in severe cruelty. It was more than 60 degrees this afternoon here today. Sun shining and absolutely amazing. Gorgeous. I left the house at 4:30PM for a five mile run in a pair of shorts and a long-sleeve technical shirt and I totally wished I was in short sleeves. But why do I get the sense that you, Mother Nature, are playing us for fools? I worry that you've got at least one more winter wallop waiting for us. Why? Because you've done it before. Nothing like an April snowstorm to tax your will to live. So please don't be fooling, lady, please.

My Saturday

4:40AM - wake up inexplicably. Not able to go back to sleep. Come downstairs to balance the checkbook. That was regrettable.
7:30AM - meet my running group in Wheaton for our weekly run. Good group of people. Good run. Weather borderline awesome. Well, awesome for Chicagoland in March. In the low 30s when we started and tons of sunshine. We hadn't seen the sun for months.
10:30AM - the Boy and I go get breakfast at Tangerine. The blueberry multi-grain pancakes were fantastic. Run some errands, including going to see the new digs of the best running store, bar none, in America - the Naperville Running Company. They moved a couple of doors down into a much larger location. It remains completely awesome.
12:30PM - go to the local soulless haircut factory for a haircut. I didn't have to wait very long and for that I am grateful.
1:00PM - Costco. On a Saturday. Wow. I noticed that most of the shoppers were as wide as they were tall. It was borderline disturbing. I did have to laugh at one really, really big lady who was using her scooter throughout the store as a bully pulpit get positively incensed when she couldn't get around a mob of carts to get to one of the sample stations quickly enough. She wanted her piece of lamb something fierce.
3:00PM - Home. I like being home.

And that's where I've been the rest of the day. CAL is at work and the Boy wants to watch a movie. I'm not going out again so here's to hoping he can find something in our DVD collection. Good luck, Boy, good luck.

The horror that is "American Idol"

Last night I watched the first twenty minutes of "American Idol." These are twenty minutes that I will never, ever get back. I should have known better. I will never get those twenty minutes back. It was perhaps the worst twenty minutes of my life. In that time, I saw the most horrific parade of untalented singers I've ever witnessed. And these are supposed to be the finalists? When your lone hope and most "talented" person is a girl missing several discolored teeth, sporting dredlocks, and looking like she needs a shower in the worst way, you're no longer on a trumped up karaoke contest, you're on "America's Most Wanted." And not wanted in a good way. For me, the horror is over. I just need to figure out how to get those twenty minutes back. Maybe I can sue Simon Cowell...