Marathon Stress (for little reason)

Today is Marathon Monday in Boston. It is mayhem. Most people, and all schools, have a holiday. The Red Sox have an early game. The Celtics are in the playoffs at home, and I—little old me—have my potentially last game tonight do-or-die style to make the tournament or end my season. Oh, and I live on the marathon route so it is loud and congested and there are tons of people and police and National Guard everywhere. This all equals: stress (and I’m not even running the marathon). So, I will sit on my ass all morning and yell at the runners while eating a muffin and gabbing with my friends while pretending my heart rate is normal, and it will be glorious.

My recently engaged friend is coming, and I am dying to see her ring. This is definitely a girl thing, but is also most certainly an engaged-girl thing. Nobody appreciates a secret engagement ring more than someone who got one herself. I imagine a large sparkly rock- the kind that really sticks up off the finger and means you can’t wear gloves or play sports. We’ll see. Maybe it will distract me from my day of supreme stress; as long as it doesn’t blind me I’ll take it.