must be talkin' to an angel

So. I had a long, tiring day at work today. And the weather has taken a weird turn towards the still: no wind, and a vague, grey cloudy haze in the sky. The kind of day where I might just go home, eat, and call it a night.

But...

I won't be able to get any exercise tomorrow due to my schedule. And I've been enjoying my general sense of well-being lately.

So I got home, picked up my iPod, and got right out into the park for a long, long walk. I walked down to get my dry-cleaning, and then came home and ate an extremely sensible dinner. I've already declined one offer to go out on the town tonight, and wonder if some folks will call later after their event .

Just when I was about to MAYBE consider walking around the corner or opening myself up to the POSSIBILITY of meeting up with the gang should they call, I got a different kind of call. Like an angel from heaven, Little John just called me from NYC to remind me of our mutual goal: to look great for PTown. A goal that will not be met by boozing during the week. Sometimes I forget how much I miss him.

Now, I'm on my second glass of organic red wine, but that has nutritional value, right?