I Am Crazy

Not that that's any shocking revelation to you, I'm sure, Gentle Reader. You and I both have long known I'm a tad insane in the membrane. However, I occasionally do things that really make me wonder just how utterly loco I am.

Allow me to share with you two recent incidents that call into question my mental faculties.

Exhibit A
I think this speaks for itself....

The boy asked for drum lessons. A friend kindly gave us her son's old kiddie-size five-piece drum kit. My murder by Muffin is now assured.

Have you ever seen a more annoyed and potentially murderous expression on a cat?

Exhibit B
Late last night I went for a massage because the left side of my body was all kinds of messed up. While waiting for my session, I picked up the latest issue of Austin Runner, which is useful for finding out about upcoming races. In other words, the publication has a bad reputation for getting me into trouble.

And it did it again.


How can I pass up an opportunity to run a half-marathon before the end of the year--even though the moment I finished registering that little voice inside my head started screaming, What the fuck do you think you're getting us into? You know you're going to hate it a few miles in, just as you have with the last two longer-than-5K races you entered. You moron! You glutton for punishment!?

Gosh, I really love that little voice inside my head. That's my voice of reason. It's my constant bitch-slap of reality. Because it's true: Even though I've run a dozen or more half-marathons at the gym, I'm going to wind up hating running this one because I hate running outside. I hate the rise and fall of the terrain. I hate having to dodge puddles of water surrounding the water stations created by my fellow gluttons for punishment. I hate knowing that I can run faster but can't seem to do it on the "big day."

But I still, dammit all, get excited when I learn about a possible race to enter because maybe this time will be different.

So if the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different, better results, then yes, Gentle Reader, I'm insane. I'm fuckin' nuts. And I wouldn't have it any other way.