Looking for a Repairperson

I have recently discovered that my "Give a Fuck" is broken. Anyone know someone handy with that sort of thing?

Ok, maybe I did not discover this recently, per se, but as I mentioned my Give a Fuck is broken, therefore I did not really ... well.... give a fuck. But now I have noticed this lack of interest in life has crept into my work world and, frankly, I have a Starbuck's addiction and a high maintenance chihuahua to support and getting canned from my teaching job when I lack any other marketable skills seems, let's just say, ill advised.

 Andy Warhol Does Diva Dog

Probably the crux of the 'not giving a fuck' issue is that hubby is facing another health problem. It is one we knew about (actually diagnosed at the same time as the prostate cancer, but since the cancer was an aggressive form that took the forefront), but now after some not so perfect blood test results it is time to start dealing with that.

To say I am not excited about starting another medical saga is akin to saying Whitney Houston had "one too many" before deciding to slip into the tub, but it is not like you can opt to reschedule these shit storms.

I am sure I will cyber-vomit all about the specifics of this at some point, but I just cannot muster the energy to do it right now.

Running (You shocked I have been running? Me too.)

Since this is purportedly a running blog, I suppose I should give an update about that. I am currently training for San Luis Obispo Marathon on April 22 with Team in Training.

I am serving as a team mentor. I won't talk about much about Team in Training here as my blogging style (or really, my entire personality-style) is not really the wholesome, Disney-esque, do-gooder type that Team in Training usually attracts and I have no desire to sully the image of an organization that raises more money annually for cancer research than even the old uni-baller himself, Lance Armstrong ($850 million to $500 million annually respectively), but nonetheless it is what that I am doing. *shrugs* It is an endeavor ol' Beelzebub and I can laugh at when the time comes.

Beelzebub: Dude! Seriously? You thought that weak ass charity shit would offset the rest of your fucked up life decisions and keep you outta here?! HOO! That is rich!

RBR: *sitting permanently posted at the front of a flame filled classroom with unending rows of iPod clad teenagers who only look up from their text conversations long enough to say repeatedly, 'when will I EVER need to know this shit?' and 'This is so gay!' The later of which makes my head spin 360's before exploding*

*after my head regenerates* Whatever, Lord of the Flies, at least my name does not mean 'pile of shit'.

I also have a new run buddy. LA Run Buddy is still my best friend in all of the world, but new babies make things different. I am 42. This is not my first rodeo. Being the childless by choice friend of new moms is, to be frank, fucked up, but she is worth it and this little guy...

 MQ at the park

..has kind of stolen my heart. I still do not feel the need to own one of my very own, but he is pretty great ... [qualifier alert] for a baby.

Yes, yes, I am an asshole. We have covered that. Moving on.

Anyhoo... In the tradition of my super distinctive monikers, I shall dub my new run buddy, TNT Run Buddy (I considered 'New Run Buddy', but that was lame even for me). She hates distance running and I hate speedwork. Her job is to help me run faster at track practice and my job is to entertain her during long runs, so that she does not want to swallow her own tongue.

So far we have run up to 13 miles together and she has not leapt in front of traffic to get away from my constant chatter, but she is continually UNimpressed with my lack of anything resembling speedwork at track practice.

Whatever. At least I am running.