26.2

Given my real estate rant from the other day, I am going to hold off on venting about the $200 ticket we got driving up to Portsmouth the other day (allegedly for travelling in the passing lane -- WTF?) or the adventure that is getting into and around my office on Patriots Day, aka Marathon Day. Most companies in Boston give their people Patriots Day off, not because it is a real holiday but because functioning in the city while the marathon is taking place (not to mention the Red Sox game going on over at Fenway) is next to impossible. Not my company. So while I’d prefer to be cheering on the runners at the finish line, which is a stone’s throw from my office, I am at my computer attempting to figure out how to get lunch when every place is either closed or mobbed. The medical tents are right in front of Trinity Church, so my coworkers and I are in the strange position of being able to watch as runners stagger/walk/crawl/are carried into for some fluids and support.

It is, however, a spectacular spring day and to me that makes it better. I always feel really badly for the runners when it’s cold, rainy, or really really hot.