Why Three Day Weekends Are Less Restful Than Normal Ones

Saturday morning, I got up around 7 a.m. for the 8:30 race (yay low-key trail racing 7′ from your house), which isn’t really very early at all — except for the whole bachelorette party the night before thing.

Sunday, I got up at 5:15 a.m. to drive to Steve’s race at Mt. Hamilton and then drive to the feed zone of Steve’s race, which actually took longer than it did to drive from our house to the start. Then, Sunday afternoon, we got Tupac the Cat.

Monday, I woke up at 6:15 a.m. to go stand around at the Marin Memorial Day 10K and direct traffic. No one got hit by a car, so I’m pretty sure that was a success. By the time I got home at 10:30 a.m. I was exhausted. I laid on the couch for the rest of the day and played with the cat, which mostly involved trying to find her after she crawled under something and watching her chase her own tail.

I am incredibly tired and possibly in need of a weekend.

Here are gratuitous pictures of Tupac:

She likes to cling to you with her super sharp little claws.
She likes to cling to you with her super sharp little claws.
Sitting inside our shoes is  super awesome apparently.
Sitting inside our shoes is super awesome apparently.

 

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