Excuses, excuses...

Here's me whining for sympathy.

Why is it that every time (as of late) I try to put my big girl clothes and get out of the house by myownself life gets in the way?

And by life, I mean:

Hubby out of town.
Hubby working late.
Inclement weather.
Feeling under the weather.
Hitting every red light on the way there, discovering I misread the calendar and arrived at the wrong location, and then hitting every red light on the way home.
Hubby out of town again.
One of the short people throwing a tantrum (and a pillow at the t.v.--um, NOT ALLOWED), and the other having a bout of diarrhea on the bathroom floor, ballet, supper, and hubby working late, plus getting being rerouted due to a road closure, only to get stuck behind a tow truck, only to have the GPS direct me on the loooooong route to my destination making me late.

Seriously? I haven't attended a single one of my running club events in four weeks, and it's driving me bananas. As if it wasn't hard enough for this introvert to make new friends...

Better luck next time? God willing?!