I've taken up running. I actually did so earlier this year, thanks to a friend of mine getting into C25k, but had stopped during my move. For the past three weeks, though, thanks in no small part to some very motivated friends and roommates, I've been catching up and doing even better than I did the first time around.

Some people get runner's high of the brain dumping all kinds of chemicals in that make you feel REALLY damn good during and after a run. I'm lucky enough to be one of those folks, and have been merrily chugging along like a rat on the treadmill, ignoring potential damage to knees and ankles alike in favor of greater health and a pervasive sense of accomplishment and well-being that is helping me deal with the stress of... having roommates, sadly.

Either I'm just not wired to live in a group setting (very possible), or this group of close friends may not be the right folks for me to be living with. My aggravation levels have been climbing pretty steadily for these past couple of months, and it's to the point where it's become clear that I have to shit or get off the pot. Gentle encouragement and outright lectures from friends and family have got me pursuing my own living quarters solo. This experiment in group living seems to be a failure.

The bright side is, I get to go shopping for a sweet living space, and Portland is certainly not empty of those. The downside is, these same irreconcilable lifestyle differences between me and my roommates may eat friendships. So it goes.

It's a decent test of how well some very patient folks have managed to teach me some modicum of diplomacy, though. I am hoping, despite everything, that friendship prevails.

And, if it doesn't, maybe it wasn't meant to.

On another bright side, the garden is flourishing. Giving up on this living situation certainly hasn't affected my tomatoes or peppers. The community garden experience has been pretty good in this regard.

Life continues to be rewarding, as does weed-pulling. Onwards.