The only things anyone in Missoula cares about are sports and the weather, which is why that's all I write about here. Today, everyone in Missoula is glad that it's finally snowed, and everyone in Missoula is glad that there's a Lady Griz game tomorrow. Also I think there was a football game this weekend?
I went for a run for the first time in ages today. It had warmed up into the low 20s and was quite nice. This was before the giant enormous winter storm rolled in (so far at my house one inch of the lightest, fluffiest snow ever has fallen, softly and quietly). Last winter after that stupid half marathon I took a month off and when I started running again I felt better than I ever had, so I'm hoping the same thing will happen after this hiatus. I was able to keep up all my numerous and obsessive Sportaktivitäten for most of the semester, but lately they've gone by the wayside - a huge problem, given my piggishness and the approaching holiday season with all its stupid chocolates.
So far I've been to one holiday party and skipped two. This coming week I have four more holiday parties to not go to. One will undoubtedly involve me sitting by myself in a corner eating cookies and getting schnockered, and then going outside to barf. The cookie barf will freeze. Deers and dogs will come by all winter to gnaw on it (there will be a lot).
At the one party I did go to, I found myself at the center of the party universe, talking to a revolving cast of strangers. I am infinitely interesting (being both faculty and staff and etc. etc. - a universal ambassador for everything) and so these revolving strangers had many things to say to me that I didn't care about at all, and I found myself saying stupid things that I didn't even mean, and I was trapped in these weird conversations for hours and hours until I finally was able to make an awkward and desperate getaway.
My jobby job never ended so I had three jobs all semester. I know I shouldn't complain, and I am grateful to have gotten those two careery jobs without having to write a cover letter or anything, and blah blah blah, but I worked pretty much nonstop (when I wasn't working I was making Sport) from the end of August until yesterday and I'm glad it's mostly over. I slept 12 hours last night, woke up this morning feeling and looking like I'd been hit by a bus. I still feel like that. I guess I was tired. I guess I still am. I meant to do some productive things today but didn't (other than running, and making soup). I'm reading a book about preserves and heartbreak. Glad I found it, although I could have used it earlier - it might have made this decade a little easier for me, and I probably would have won mad canning awards at the fair the past few years.
Yeah, so I went for a 4-mile run today, am getting back on track after being derailed for a while. The operative metaphor here is that I am a train.
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