Excuses, schmexcuses
Well, I didn’t race at all on Sunday. We went up Saturday for our day trip to Uwharrie. It was a great group of 17, with four very patient guys. (Tom Mathews is a saint). As much as I love Uwharrie, I wasn’t feeling it. I certainly don’t have my climbing legs like I normally do this time of year.
Earlier in the week, I was talking about going out to dinner with the “girls” from the former Corning plant. Since the place shut down, we’ve kept in touch and Renee happened to be in town. So, it was girls’ night out Saturday. However, with the day trip (Brian didn’t go) and girls’ night out and last weekend’s trip to Myrtle Beach, I realized I hadn’t really seen my fiance in two weeks. Then, he says he’s not racing Uwharrie. Now what am I going to do? I went out to dinner, and it took THREE hours. We didn’t do anything special, the service was terrible. By the time I got home (late, for me), I knew I wouldn’t race Sunday. So Sunday was a relaxing day with Brian.
I got a call this morning about interviewing for a job I’d really want. Keep your fingers crossed!
Also, I’ve been obsessing over the honeymoon. Brian has made all those plans, but for some reason I’m suddenly transfixed by St. John. Here’s the house we’re renting:
Yes, it’s a little castle. I’m so stoked.
