Practice went okay. It's going to be hard on my old bones doing a Wednesday and a Friday practice. I'm not even going to think about what's going to happen when I start skating on Sundays, too.
I have tons to say about Jill, but I don't have the energy to sort through it right now. It's bed time, and the one thing I shouldn't be doing before retiring is analyzing today's news.
My mom cracks me up. Everyone's parents should go back to school at the age of sixty.
Yesterday I had an e-mail exchange with a friend about my misanthropic tendencies, and I was only partly joking. The evidence supporting my case has arrived in an e-mail. A new member of our team sent me an e-mail suggesting that we carpool to practice. There are now three women from Bloomington commuting to Indy to play hockey, and wouldn't it make sense for us all to ride together instead of taking two or three cars?
Yeah, it would make sense. It's not like I love driving or anything, and it would save me some gas money. But. I don't want to do it. I don't want to spend an hour and 15 minutes in the car with an unknown quantity. Yeah, yeah, maybe if I spent some time with these two women, they wouldn't be unknowns. I loved driving to practice with Beth, but I knew ahead of time we had a lot in common--we were both in the same grad program at IU, I had known her already for a couple years, and I knew she was smart. After Beth moved to Ft. Wayne, I briefly tried driving up with another teammate. Nice enough woman, but our personalities just didn't mix. I was exhausted by the time I arrived at the rink.
So, I'll probably break down and commute with one or both of these teammates, even though I really don't want to, because heaven forbid that J.R. wouldn't be friendly and accommodating. I know what Susan wants to do, but that wench J.R. keeps mucking things up.
I look like a leper. In a tie.