So it became instantly clear when Scott and Rob showed up this morning that nobody was emotionally invested in tacking our planned fourth mile onto our usual three-mile run

At least they weren’t; I’m a hollowed-out emotional void, so I’m not emotionally invested in anything. But we had a quorum anyway so I was spared the awkward responsibility of being the vice-presidential tie-breaker.

As usual, Rob and I spent our run discussing show tunes, the cosmic events that cause cars to appear at our street crossings ONLY when we try to cross them, the absurdity of String Theory in the face of Loop Quantum Gravity, and owls. Also as usual, Scott ran ahead of us, this time so far that he added some loops, ran an additional .45 miles, still beat us to our finish line, and greeted us there ironically in an owl costume. Let’s all agree that Scott is the weird one in our group. It goes without saying that Rob is the talented one, and I of course am Farrah Fawcett.

PS: Dad, I remembered to take the yardy to the curb.