On the wagon
Had a very quiet weekend. I've not had a drink for over a week, which is mainly by choice but I have felt pretty crap too as I can't shake a poxy cold which I have come to realise has been with me ever since I last had a drop of alcohol which must be a coincidence, I think?
Sunday I took in the Chicago Marathon
which passed close by my apartment 3 times. If you have ever been to Chicago you will know it is a very flat city and therefore the Chicago Marathon is one of the quickest in the world. This is great if you are a finely tuned athlete some whom I saw sprint past me at the 12 mile mark but not so good for the fat fucks who were being overtaken by the street cleaners sweeping up the debris 3 hours later. If they survived to tell the tale and I didn't give out much hope to the woman who threw her guts up in front of me, then they were on course to finish the 'race' in 7 to 8 hours!
There must be a rule that does not allow extremely unhealthy and unfit American's to endanger their lives and run 26.2 miles. If there isn't then they should devise one.
However I did find it very inspiring and although I can't imagine for a minute that I will ever be fit or dedicated enough to run a marathon it has made me step up my search for some running shoes and at least get on the treadmill more often.
I'm bored at work and need something else to stimulate my goldfish like attention span, I'm pissed off with my team leader who does not know the meaning of the word team nor leader and the weather is on the turn, although I still had my shorts on yesterday but I am fighting a losing battle. The winters here are as the Chicagoan's say brutal and the thought of the cold right now is depressing to say the least.
Tonight I went to a cheese & wine evening or for me, a cheese & diet coke evening but it was cut short when my mate's girlfriend phoned him twice crying. On the 2nd call he downed his Rioja & swallowed his piece of Vermont blue and left. I hung around for a bit, tried making conversation with the bar tender and then decided to leave as well.
I sound fed up, probably because I am, although I'm hoping a mate is going to pick up my Palace ticket tomorrow so all I need to do now is book my flights and tell my boss (nah bollocks to him, he won't understand anyway, and needs to start acting like one before I treat him like one).