Friday the 13th is usually a good day for me. In an ironic, backwards sort of way (much like my life), those days tend to bring me luck, good news, and happiness.
Yesterday's version was a bit of a mixed bag. Actually, to be completely honest and quit the sugar-coating, it was completely f***ing awful. One of those days you want to erase straight off the calendar, going at it until the paper rips and your fingers are sore. But the day did end with good friends and a cocktail, so it wasn't a complete loss.
Today was a quiet, studious day, a large part of which was devoted to recovering from the night before (I said Friday ended with a cocktail, I never said there weren't several others that preceded it). And writing. Lots of writing. I am now ready to move on to Chapter 4 and, the abominable first chapter aside, I'm pretty happy with what I have so far. Which means there are two chapters I like. So yes, I'm not dancing the happy dance yet, but things could be worse (it could be yesterday again).
In other news, tomorrow is the day of the big run for Houston Hottie and I (you knew she had to be around somewhere; where there is any kind of silver lining in a crisis, there is Houston Hottie.) Anyways, tomorrow is the day when the two of us brave the wind and the rain and the brimstone of Hyde Park and run our little socks off for 10 whole kilometers. Watching the ever-receding backsides of 950 runners ahead of us...
But as they say, it's not whether you win or lose, it's whether you look good in your sweatpants that counts.