Waking up on Saturday on Water's Edge Lane

Okay, first of all, I hate my neighbor Tim. I know that sounds unneighborly. But he's a constant reminder of all the things I'm not. This morning, for example, he woke me up banging doors on his hasty exit to the Reston Runners Saturday run. I'm convinced he was deliberately showing me up.

By the time his car pulled out of the lot (I heard that too), I already knew what Tim was thinking: Carol's a fat, back-of-the pack sloth. He knew I was hunkered down in my warm blankets, only dreaming of running. He was probably smirking at my transgressions. Runners are like that and I was certain Tim was rushing to get out so he could announce to the whole club that I was still in bed

By this time, I was so worked up about Tim's going to the run, I decided I may as well get up myself and consider putting in some mileage.

That's all I feel like writing about my morning. Tim will be 50 on Monday.