I had a dream last night that I figured out a way to record my dreams on my iphone. How brilliant would that be if we could do that?? No more forgetting the awesome dreams you had, you could just play them back. You know how when you try to tell someone what you dreamt about (like what I’m attempting to do right here) and you can’t convey it just right and they just don’t get it, nor do they care? Well now you can just sigh, roll your eyes, whip out your phone and show them for themselves. Then their eyes will brighten, they’ll look at you and say “I get it, Ang (insert your name here), I get it!” Anyway, it would be amazing if it were true. It reminded me of Inception, because I had a dream in my dream, but then I watched the playback of my dream in my dream. Or was the dream I was watching just another dream I really dreamt in really life?
My brain hurts.
Speaking of brains, I’m learning to juggle. You’d know that if you were following my Instagram. If you’re not following my Instagram, shame on you (aka you must have a life, and really, that’s better). I decided to video my progress, because, duh.
Clearly it needs some work. But I’m totally getting it, and that’s very exciting.
Also, I found these amazing circus shoes at Nordstrom Rack that were originally $250, but on clearance for $30 because who in their right mind would buy circus shoes?!
I guess I’m not in my right mind (just ask that guy in the mirror, it’s clear from his face that he’s judging me). But they’re amazing and make me incredibly happy. And currently being displayed in my bookcase, as circus shoes should be.
Next to my juggling balls, of course (when not in use).
It is freezing in San Diego. Literally. It snowed yesterday night! Not last night, yesterday’s last night, which would be the night before last, I guess. The weather was totally crazy and us San Diegans just totally got a kick out of it.
It was late. I had just driven home from the coast, where it wasn’t really that cold, I decided. I was surprised. It appeared it may not rain again, and I was a bit disappointed. When I walked from my car to my house I noticed how much colder it was here than a mere ten minutes earlier there (I must live in a cold pocket or something, it’s always colder here, I feel like I live in a totally different city, but I do not). I put on my cozy pj’s and hop into bed to read (okay fine, pinterest. whatever). Next thing I know there is this HUGE thunder clasp! The cats freak out! One runs to the kitchen and hides in one of the cabinets (I couldn’t find her for a full ten minutes). The other is just sort of running in circles not knowing where to go. About 20 car alarms go off immediately, I have no idea if mine is one of them. Most of them turn off pretty quick, but one is persistent and won’t be quiet. I throw my fancy warm jacket over my scantily clad pj’s, slip on some clogs and race downstairs to see if it’s my car annoying all the neighbors. It wasn’t. Good car. On my walk back I see a huge lightening bolt across the sky! It was super low, too. I live sort of on a hill, so I have a grand view of the valley (and I’d like to think, my kingdom subjects) below. This lighting bolt was parallel to me. Very low. I’m surprised it didn’t strike one of my subjects. Poor lowly subjects. Then more crazy thunder. This whole time, I could see beautiful bright stars in the sky, the big dipper was trying really hard to pour stars on my head, but I moved just in time.
Back in my cozy bed (after I found Lilli), the rain started. Hard. Then the wind. Then the hail!! I swear it was hailing. I jumped out of bed to try to prove it was hail, but you know how hail doesn’t look like hail from your window sometimes? At least, not San Diego hail. And not from upstairs. I’d have to actually get shoes on and go outside, down the stairs, again, in order to prove it to you. And I just wasn’t really willing to do that. So I just trusted my ears, and all of the “it’s hailing!” tweets I saw and stayed in bed.
It poured most of the night, the wind howled until the wee hours of the morning. And we all woke up with a mostly clear sky and freezing temperatures. Soon thereafter the snow pictures on Instagram came pouring in. Just a wee bit into the mountains there was enough snow to make snowmen and have snowball fights. Families bundled up their kids and got up there fast before it melted. Palomar Mountain has snow. Mount Laguna is covered in it. The view of it is so pretty from here in town!
And now this morning. 7am. It was 32 degrees outside. 32! Freezing temps, people! The sky is perfectly blue, not a cloud in sight. The low today will be 27. 27! (sorry I keep repeating myself) It’s a fun week to be a San Diegan, folks.
This morning I shall be braving the 32 degree weather hiking Torrey Pines (for the first time, where have I been??) whilst donning warm woolen hats, fuzzy mittens and down vests. Bring it on Jack Frost, we’re ready for you!
*Above photo stolen from Instagram because I was too busy eating pizza and looking for a dress to wear for my sisters’ wedding instead of adventuring in the snow like a normal person.
Heeey there, how are you guys? What’s new? I’ve been in a steady routine of reading, trapezing, working and that’s about it. On the evenings I’m not at the rig, this is where you’ll find me:
Yep, sitting on my butt reading. I’m re-reading the first two books in The Wasted Series after reading Wasteland, the extra book she threw in that gives an awesome back story to the characters. I got addicted. Again. I may or may not get a chance to read the third and final one before it’s published. I love instant gratification.
Trapeze update: I’ve been working on a back end planche the last couple of classes, and it is tough to get into that trick! I do a pretty good two position planche, but this back end is throwing me for a loop. Literally, when I fall out of it! Ha! But I’ll get it! I can’t expect to nail every new trick in a mere hour and a half class. My brain gets in the way and stops me from doing things correctly. I over think it instead of just do it. An 82 year old and a 17 year old showed me up Wednesday night. That is NOT okay.
Speaking of trapeze, I came up with a genius way to stay warm! Wait for it…
TA DA! You guys…those are socks. That had holes in the toes, because I have my dad’s toes. So I cut the entire toe part off, stuck the heel in my elbow, cut a small slit for my thumb, and voila! Arm warmers! How’s that for a lazy DIY tutorial? Target makes amazing long socks for a mere $2 a pop. So if the old sock thing grosses you out, just buy a new pair and cut them. I seriously think I’m a genius here. I made three pairs, and I still have old knee-high’s with holes.
I am currently at war with the new property managers where I live. Okay fine, the war is only in my head. These girls aren’t very nice, and they don’t get the job done. My neighbors downstairs smoke. I think. Someone smokes, I’m assuming it’s them. I’m fine with them giving themselves lung cancer, whatever. But somehow the secondhand smoke is wafting up into my unit, through a vent or something. I smelled it off and on in the kitchen (of all places!!) when I first moved in, but it was really infrequent, and I questioned my sanity because it just doesn’t make sense. That was spring, so I had my windows open all the time. Well now it’s winter (sort of) and I’ve been closing my windows every evening. And that stinking cigarette smell is so bad! And it’s almost constant. There’s nowhere for it to go because my windows are closed, so it just fills my place with stank. I wake up in the morning to the lovely smell of secondhand smoke in my bedroom. I talked to property management and she said “Well, people can do whatever they want in their units, I can’t tell them to stop smoking.” I wasn’t telling them to stop smoking, idiot, I was telling you to figure out how it’s making its way to MY unit and block the passage! Yeah so, no solution yet. Lease is up in a few months, I need to figure out what to do before then. Maybe month-to-month and hope a good unit comes available? There’s one I totally have my eye on, not sure if it’ll be available when my lease is up, though. Timing is everything!
Okay, what else? Oh, my sister texted me a picture of this card, and it’s the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
This morning I managed to lose one earring whilst sleeping (that’s talent), then when I was attempting to put my little diamond earring in its place, I dropped it, it bounced into the closet door track, I fished it out with my tweezers only to find I broke it. The diamond popped out of the setting and I can’t fix it. All before 5:30am! I’m quite the talent, I am. Good thing these new earrings I just got have a clasp-thing, so I won’t lose those.
I sort of love everything from Littionary. And their packaging was fun, too.
Farmers Markets are great, right? You got fresh food, you’re helping out local farmers, there’s tons of great things to see, taste, bring home for dinner. Flowers galore.
The flowers just might be my favorite part. So, out of all of the Farmers Markets in San Diego, I decide the best one must be Solana Beach. Because Solana Beach is fancy! It might be more expensive too, but I was going for fancy, I guess. I had a list of stuff I needed, which consisted of veggies and eggs. I had no idea anyone sold eggs at farmers markets, but I was willing to give it a go. Then hit the grocery store on my way home if they didn’t.
One of the first booths I see has a cardboard sign that reads “eggs!” (exclamation theirs). I was quite excited. She said she had one more carton left. Sold! Wow, I really lucked out, she’s almost sold out. She shows me the eggs, closes the carton while I’m getting out some cash and she says “$8.50 please”. I quickly put my cash back in my wallet. “Wait..what?? $8 for eggs?” I hate being that person, but come ON $8 eggs! She gives me this big long speech about what they feed their chickens, what they don’t feed them, what their coop looks like, blah blah. Basically, if I say no then I’m the biggest chicken-hater-abuser in the world, so I’d better buy these eggs and not get them at Albertson’s. FINE. I give her my money, then she tells me to not rinse them until I’m going to use them. They have this protective coating on them that’s natural, it’s there when the eggs are laid, it keeps them fresher longer. Then…THEN she tells me these eggs were just laid on Friday. I could even put them in an incubator to hatch them if I want. What?! These eggs have chickens in them?? Maybe I’m not up on my chicken trivia, but I thought there were fertile eggs and unfertilized eggs. (Did that make since? I’m getting confused with fertilizer and human babies.) They don’t go from being non-chick to chick after they’re laid. Do they?? Please chime in if you know. Because every single time I go to crack one of those eggs open I am scared to death there will be a baby chick in it! One that I killed! This is all too much pressure. There’s also still dirt and hay on these eggs (before I wash them) and it just reminds me that this egg just went through a chickens insides, and now I’m touching it. I am touching the birthing canal of a chicken. Right now. This is all too much. I’m never buying eggs at a farmers market again.
But they sure are pretty. One even has speckles!
They didn’t have all the veggies I was looking for, but had some pretty great things. I got fresh pomegranate juice to put in my morning parfaits, some lettuce and tomatoes. The tomatoes were excellent, as fresh tomatoes always are (never put them in the fridge). The lettuce went bad almost instantly. Then the egg saga. I love going to farmers markets, but I think the point is to buy what you’re going to eat that night. Or maybe the next night. I was shopping for the week, and that’s just not totally practical.
These were at a store in the market. Love them! But hefty price tag. Solana Beach and all.
What was really great, though, was that I got hit on by a proper Italian.
I was standing in the middle of the food court trying to decide what I wanted for lunch, when these guys from Red Oven insisted they were the best vendor there and 7th in the nation(!) and I’d be sorely disappointed if I didn’t eat their pizza. I was jonesing for a gyros, but I can’t pass up a great wood fired pizza. Can you? I got the Parma and it was delish! There was a couple there that told me they drove all the way from Orange County just for their pizza. Crazy! I think I’m the last one to jump on the Red Oven bandwagon, but I’m totally on it now. You can hire them for private events, too. So do that. Look how good that crust looks. Dang, this is making me hungry.
So…that was my trip to the Farmers Market. To sum up: I need veggies to have the chemicals on them so they’ll last a week. And don’t even get me started about the eggs.
I thought I’d fill in the gaps for you with the rest of the trip to LA to see Airborne Toxic Event. Pretty exciting stuff, people! It has trains, food AND lipstick involved! Very exciting stuff.
It all started out at the train station. I of course was paranoid there was going to be an overturned semi on the freeway to prevent me from getting from my work to the train station in time, so I left about a half hour too early.
And Amtrak was about a half hour late. That’s me waiting there for the train. There was a girl standing next to me that insisted we were on the same train, even though they were scheduled to leave at completely different times, had different train numbers, and were a different train company. So when her train changed to the next platform over, she tried to literally pull me over there with her. I’m on a different train lady, leave me alone!!
Here’s what’s great about the train. You get on it, you connect to their free wifi, stick headphones in your ear so you can listen to Spotify, take out your ipad so you can Pinterest and write stuff, and you drink the free wine whilst gazing out into the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Here I’m trying to show you just that. Look guys, I’m drinking wine out of the bottle and Pinteresting at the same time because I’m classy! Are you buying it?
I couldn’t manage to get a non-blurry picture of my ipad, wine and view. Besides, they all looked stupid because I’m just holding them up. I was trying to contort myself into a position that looked classy yet comfortable so you’d think I didn’t set up the shot, but I’m just naturally that cool. I’m so not good at this.
In other news, look how green the water is! Keep in mind, this is from the train which has a filthy window full of sea air stuck on it to muck things up. But the water is indeed green. In San Clemente. Who knew?!
After this (and the wine) I proceeded to take about 75 selfies of me gazing out of the train, trying to make it look like someone across from me was taking the picture. I shall not bore you with those. They’re pretty hideous. You think anyone saw me do it? Gosh, I hope not.
And now I’m at Union Station! Fabulous. This night was the concert, so I already filled you in on that. Remember when I told you that I was obnoxious with my order and asked they build my usual breakfast for me? Well, here it is. In the flesh, people.
Except they didn’t put the avocado between the bread and the eggs. They must’ve seen right through me trying to be rich and famous in LA, and realized I’m just a normal bozo who doesn’t know how to demand things. This was at The Standard Hotel in Downtown LA. Really great, right? The food was super good, those potatoes were goooood! I wanted to sit outside, but it was suddenly fall, so I was down for inside with constant coffee refills.
Later on that day we ventured out to Hollywood for the TMZ Bus Tour. I do not follow the celebrities, but my friend does, so we hopped on the bus and hoped to find us some famous people! We didn’t, but it was still fun. You can literally see a line in the grass where Beverly Hills ends (green) and LA starts (brown). The other half, am I right?
I decided this would be a great time for me to find the perfect red lipstick. I walk into a practically empty MAC store (unheard of) and I pretend to look at makeup until someone comes up to help me. Which was only two seconds, which is great. So this guy in all black (as they do) sits me down in a chair and grabs their most popular lipstick. A44. I forget what it’s called but that’s the number. As he’s cleaning the lipstick before putting it on me, I try telling him I’m new to this whole red lipstick thing, but I think I need to get into it because it’s awesome. He proceeds to line my lips, fill them in with liner, then puts lipstick on top of that. You guys, I felt like a pale drag queen. Do I look like a pale drag queen?
I almost didn’t show you, because…well, because. But you’ve been with me on this red lipstick journey, so I feel I owe it to you. Please note my lip is NOT that crooked, he lined that side funny. Again…drag. The liner was out of control. Had a mind of its own. I told him maybe I need something a bit calmer, to ease me into the red lip, so I tried on four more lipsticks, and by that time my lips were stained and peeling from wiping so much lipstick and liner off. He looked at me with his hand on his hip and said “maybe if we put some…” then waved his hand up at my face “…bronzer or blush or something on you.” Okay, I get it! I’m pale! I don’t wear a lot of makeup! I probably should never have stepped foot into a MAC store! What was I thinking. I laughed (because lets face it, he’s totally right) then said I’ll walk around with this last color on my lips and see how it makes me feel (please see the shopping rules), and go from there. Then I took a picture for you.
The middle one is A44, and it actually looked best on me despite myself. I think maybe I’m just not ready for red lipstick? Love/hate relationship, people.
I said goodbye to DTLA and my mini-vaca, and took the metro back to Union Station for my train ride back free happy hour. Riding the metro is fun, because it reminds me of the subway in NYC and I miss the city so much it hurts.
Then, for a very exciting turn of events, the too-small boots I ordered online (what is wrong with me?) were waiting for me at my house and get this…THEY FIT!
This is why I’m not a fashion blogger, folks. All the pictures would look like this. But those boots are pretty rad and I want to wear them every day of my life.
I feel just like this girl right now. In despair. I have done the unthinkable.
I left my cell phone at home.
AAAHHHH! What am I going to do?? I’m going to be living like a neanderthal all day, that’s what. No checking Instagram every five minutes. What if I miss a tweet? How will I know when I get an email? What if someone texts me and I can’t respond immediately?? How will I find my way home from work without Google telling me where to go?! I sure hope today isn’t the day I get kidnapped, because if it is, they’ll have to find me the old fashioned way. Sleuthing!
What in the world did we do without a phone on us at every single moment of every single day? We didn’t need one. We let people leave us messages on our…oh no, I forget what it’s called. Answering machine! Wow, that was close. They’d leave a message on our answering machine (not voice mail) and we’d *gasp* wait until we got home from work to check it and call them back. What a world, right? Neanderthal world, if you ask me!
I didn’t have a cell phone until I was the ripe old age of 25. I got along just fine, too. No kidnapping. No one disowned me because I couldn’t answer their question within two minutes of receiving it. If I wanted to look at pictures, I’d open a photo album. If I wanted to tell someone something meaningless about my day, I would do it in person. And I never ever cared about showing anyone my food.
We live in a crazy world, folks, where cell phones reign. And I for one, am all for it. But today…today I shall treat as an experiment. I shall unplug for ten hours, and see how good I feel afterwards. Interacting face to face with people, and that’s it. Except for the fact that I have a desk job and will be in front of my computer screen(s) all day long and will check all six of my email accounts constantly just to be sure no one emailed me (I really need to consolidate my email accounts). And I guess technically I can check Instagram online, too. But I WILL have to find my way home all by myself!
If you don’t hear from me by 4pm I’ve either a) been kidnapped or b) haven’t figured out how to get home. Now, please don’t tweet or Instagram anything interesting until 4pm, because I don’t want to miss something as important as what your lunch looked like.
So, it’s fall (sorta) and I haven’t done one fall thing yet. I really want to get into this fall thing, you know? Go to Julian and eat apple pie. Maybe even pick some darn apples! (where do you do that, by the way? I’m ashamed to ask, I’ve lived here most of my life and have never. been. apple. picking.) I want to sit in coffee shops and drink lattes with cinnamon and chocolate shavings on top and watch the pouring rain outside, and sketch in my notebook (okay, that will never happen because I am so not a sketchist). I want to buy multiple beanies, one for each day, and wear wellies and stomp in puddles. Rake up fallen leaves into a giant pile and jump in them (that one hurts, by the way, not as soft as the movies lead you to believe, I don’t recommend). I want to wear thigh high wool socks and chunky knit mittens. Make homemade soups and take long, hot baths. I want to stare out my balcony window and watch for lightening in the many thunderstorms we get here in San Diego (aka none).
See, that’s the problem. We’re in SAN DIEGO. Where fall doesn’t really happen like it does everywhere else. It’s still almost 80 degrees every day here, I hear a hot spell is coming this weekend. We get seasons about 2-3 months later than everyone else, if they come at all. I’m just jonesing for some fall, though! I want to force it. Pretend it’s here and wear fall clothes and do fall things! But then I’m just sweaty and miserable and everyone looks at me stupid.
I’ve been thinking a lot about friends lately. Old friends, new friends, the best friend I had in elementary school, the best friend I had in junior high and high school. And best friends after that. But of course, after you graduate school, you don’t really have just one best friend anymore. At least, I didn’t. I had different best friends for different reasons. Different occasions. And they all came from different groups, different parts of my life, in different times of my life. I never thought about the older friends as not really being my best friend anymore. I just started wording it differently. “One of my best friends”.
I started categorizing them: Current best friend that lives near me and I talk to on a daily basis. Best friend from high school. Old roommate that I will always love, even though I know every single one of her quirks, and she knows mine (yipes). Best friend that I had when I lived in a different city and we only email each other a couple times a year now, but she still holds a special place in my heart.
I think everyone goes through friend lulls. Where you move, or start a new job, or make another huge life change, and your friends shift a bit. Or a lot. And you’re in the market for a new, Current Best Friend. Well, how the heck do you do this?
You could be like me and just wait until someone falls in your lap and cross your fingers that it’s going to be a good one. Or you could do something different…
DATE a Potential Best Friend.
This is serious business, folks! You can’t just wait for a best friend to come along! You can’t be timid, and just be stoked the cool girl is talking to you. You need to act like YOU are that cool girl (because you probably are and just don’t realize it), you need to scour the earth for a girl that puts a twinkle in your eye, and you need to pursue the heck outta her!
Here’s my plan:
When I meet someone that I think could be Potential Best Friend material, I’m going for it. I’m not going to sit at home and stare at my phone, hoping she’ll call, even though I never gave her my phone number. I’m going to right off the bat invite her out for a drink. Yeah, I said it. A drink! (if she doesn’t drink, she’s no bestie material, let’s face it.) None of this coffee business, I’m going straight for the gullet. (is that even a phrase?) Just me and her. A real live date. We can talk one on one, get to know each other a bit, see if we click. We might not click. If we don’t, there will most likely not be Potential Best Friend Date #2. Sure, there will be group events and random texts and stuff, but I don’t want to be best friends with people that just aren’t ME. You know? Not a part of my tribe. Just because they want to, doesn’t mean I have to go for it.
Please don’t confuse this as being mean to people, that’s not what I’m saying. We’re talking Best Friend here, one that you ugly cry in front of, tell all your dirty secrets to, and dance hard, dressed up like Madonna circa Like a Virgin era in the living room with. Best Friend material is precious! You know this. I know this. We need to treat this seriously. And start dating potential besties.
“But what will we talk about on our first date? What if we run out of things to say?” Good question! Here are some talking points that might help you. Feel free to write them on your hand and hope you don’t sweat the ink off.
What cities have you lived in? Which was your favorite and why?
If you could travel anywhere tomorrow, where would it be, and what would you do there?
What is your spirit animal? (mine’s booze.)
What is your dream career? (if she’s already in it, get her talking about it)
What the heck is that chick wearing over there?
Want another drink? (only if things are going well)
Check please! (if it’s not)
Do you have kids? / Tell me about your kids? / Do you want kids? / Wanna hear about my cats? No? Okay, never mind (then go to #7 immediately)
Tell me about some bands/musicians that you like.
These are just some starters for you. I suggest you start out by making your own list of qualities that are important in your Potential Best Friend. Perhaps one of these would be on your list:
Good sense of humor (aka laughs at everything you say)
Dresses well (what? perhaps you’re a bit superficial, like I am)
Has kids / doesn’t have kids (this could be a deal breaker for someone, either way)
Has some things in common with you (for instance, I would like someone that’s creative)
Someone that inspires you, nudges you out of your comfort zone
Again, just some suggested qualities. But make your own list. Jot it down. Put it on the fridge. Or stick it in your Google Drive on your phone, so when you meet someone new you can quickly glance at it and see if that person truly is a Potential Best Friend or not.
I really think I’m onto something, you guys.
// above photo of my best friend Lucy and I at Del Mar Fair in 1990. Beeker & Animal 4Ever!
You know how you want to be a certain kind of person, but you’re just not, and you struggle to accept it?
“I’m the type of person that wakes up at dawn and goes running”
“I’m the type of person that reacts kindly to everyone, all the time, even if they are mean”
“I’m the type of person who never leaves the house in their pj’s”
“I’m the type of person who never eats an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Heath Bar Crunch whilst binge watching Netflix”
“I’m the type of person who _________________________________ (fill in your own!)”
Yeah, well, I’m just not. It’s okay to embrace these things, guys! The one I’m thinking of right now is the top one. I leave for work at 6:30 Monday-Friday, and I see people running before the sun is up. “Ohhhh I want to be them! I’ll do that Saturday!” It just looks so fresh, and crisp, and delightful. I imagine I’ll be listening to the birds wake up as the sun starts peeking over the mountains ever so slightly. I’m clearing my head in the crisp air, thinking about nothing but the pounding of my feet on the pavement. I feel strong, tight, perfectly even breathing as I’m racing up hill, never slowing down (or walking, heavens no) because I am the perfect runner.
The reality of this is me waking up, throwing my running shoes on whilst wiping the eye googies from my eye, telling the cats I know I’m nuts, but I’ll be back, it’ll be good, I swear. I act all cool while I’m walking fast through my complex (gotta warm up), run through all the cobwebs on that first leg right after the stinky trash cans (this doesn’t happen in the afternoon, other people have already walked through them for me), then huff and puff like I’m a smoking asthmatic trying to make it up the half-block hill. I haven’t had coffee yet, turns out I’m starving, all I can think of is “whose stupid idea was this anyway?!” I cut my run much shorter than normal, walking most of the time so it’s still taken the same amount of time, then I come home to find I’ve locked myself out of the house.
You guys, I’m not a morning runner. I’m not. Here’s the other bummer part. Once I do grab my spare key and get inside, I have to take a shower immediately, there’s no coffee made, but even if there was I have to drink loads of water first (I hate drinking water first thing in the morning), then I’m so hungry after my shower I feel like I’m going to pass out, so I have to make breakfast, then my morning is GONE. My lovely luxurious stay-in-bed-and-drink-coffee morning is GONE. Obliterated. Because I have this vision of morning run people being better than me. Okay fine, they are. But I don’t even get a good workout because of all of those things above. I tried it again this past weekend. I told myself both days I would do it (I feel totally in shape after walking everywhere downtown last week, I wanted to keep up the momentum), but it’s been 90 degrees, so I would need to go running early. I made the wise decision to NOT do it, though! And instead, do pilates at 3pm safely in my air conditioned living room. Fabulous! Good choice, me!
I tell myself when it gets colder my running routine will be better. I’m pretty sure I’ll have plenty of excuses then, too. Whatever. We can’t all be those cool, in shape morning runners.