Too much

This is another weekend of "too much". Too much running. Too much eating. Too much drinking.
A coworker asked me what I was up to on the weekend and I told her and she was like "that's a lot". And I said "yeah, plus I have to squeeze in eight and thirteen miles". Whoops. Weekends like this happen. The key is to just stay on schedule.
Today we slept in. Like, hella slept in. The eight miles became 7.5.
Went to see Big D's new place in East Van. SWANK. So nice. Stunning views. Excellent company. So nice to see one of my best friends so happy and in such nice surroundings with such nice company.
Tried to get into Bin 942 for a tapas before heading over to my mom's but the line up went into the alley (at 5pm, no less) and if there's one thing I hate more than the conservative Christian right it's long line ups and so we grabbed coffee and then went to my mom's and picked her and my aunt up and went to Transylvania on Broadway for dinner. Meh. Not as good as the reviews had led me to expect, though I still devoured everything like a vacuum cleaner. (C: I picked up a $10 off voucher and it's got your name all over it).
Came home. The phone rings at 10:15 and it's Michael thinking he's lost his keys for the second time this week. The first time I was able to help him out because I have a set of his and he has a set of mine. So he currently has my spare sent and has made copies but hasn't given me any. I was like, "so now what?" but then he found his keys, which is a good thing. Poor guy. Rough week.
Tomorrow I run 13 miles (theoretically) and then meet L downtown for lunch and then the North Shore Alcoholics meet for cheap beer and pizza later that night. If there is one thing that runners are good at, it's drinking beer and eating pizza.
Long term: lots of running. A half marathon. A house sitting stint. Gotta get my snow tires off. I need a vacation but I don't get one until I finish my marathon on the Island in June. Then I get the week. I have no plans for that week and I think I want to keep it that way. I never do nothing. Ever. It should be interesting.
And through all of this? Michael. I showed a coworker a couple of pics of him and she asked if I wanted to trade. And I didn't want to trade because she's way better looking than me, and she's a great cook: he'd never come back!
After 10 years together it's easy to start to take someone for granted and today I acknowledge that I dragged him all over hell's half acre and we got home late and I only have 13 miles tomorrow but he has 18 miles and he was happy and easy going the entire time. I should really try and be more reciprocal in the relationship. I'm not sure which is the easier route: learning to cook; or being an easy going individual.