So things with The Pilot are going tastically. In fact, there going so tastically that he asked me to go away with him next weekend to Mabalingwe - never been but apparently it is gorgeous. Awesome, I love gorgeous things!
Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity - he might even take me flying while we're there. YAY! (Note to self: Do not press any funny / pretty looking buttons whilst pondering what exactly it does!)
Of course once my ecstatic euphoria had slowed down to a more normal pace, I had that little niggling feeling that I was forgetting something important... Ever had that? What I realised later was that I am suppose to be doing a 21km next Sunday, watching The Parental Unit known as "Dad" host his first live jazz and blues jam session and something else on Friday (I still can't remember what this is though).
Now I am proverbially stuck in a rock and a hard place... Beautiful weekend away with The Pilot or running which translates into copious amounts of sweating and supporting the man who helped make me the boozy tart I am today! Mmmm...
Past experience has taught this tart that such a situation is not a welcome one. They generally end very badly with me feeling like I am being fought over like that last piece of doubly delicious triple decker chocolate cake!
This time, however, things are different.
This time I know exactly what I wanna do.
This time The Parentals like The Pilot so much that the Dad's answer to my proverbial dilemma was... Fuck the run! And don't worry bout us or me on Saturday. Just means I'll have more Jamies for the rest of my customers!
This time I realise what truly awesome Parentals I have and just how much I love them.
This time... my bags are packed and I'm ready to go!
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