for cleavage enhancement

The cork is wedging its way out of the bottle and all I can do is sit by waiting for the waiter to grab the sucker in super slow motion in a foolish attempt at unlocking the delicious liquids inside.

This morning I felt lonely. And sad. Both these things. Also, tiredness. Also proudness known as pride.

Again, I failed to make my 4:30am run happen. But I did manage to replace it once again with a 5:30pm run.

And I feel so much fatter than yesterday. Kenney's limited source material strikes again: Kenney feels fat and eats nothing as a result. I put this down to new found competition and digitally retouching semi naked pictures of Eamon Sullivan all week...

My day was completely tunnel vision. Im stuck looking in awe at this bloody cork. WOULD SOMEONE GIVE THE IDIOT A CORKSCREW? I lied to people today. Several people. And Im being all dramatic and vague, but for now the corkscrew conundrum continues.

And even though I'm a tad worried about the journey from New York to New Milford being a bumpy one, I can rest easy that super friend Leila (who, looks nothing like a monkey except when I try and draw her) is here to take me safely to airport in peak hour traffic :)

This evening, my hand was forced to visit Mac Square after I broken Louise's heater and ran for 5 miles against heavy traffic, to replace my runner's inner soles and have my overseas backpack fitted. Now I can face the New Milford 8 in confidence knowing that my running shoes have a fresh antibacterial coating.

Fruit of the Moment: twelve tea work day