A couple of times

Over Christmas I was enthusiastically reporting the joys of the dawn patrol. I talked up the glories of the early morning starts, the sun rising over the mountains, and the fresh tracks before arriving at work at 10am.
"So you do this a lot?" my bemused listener asked me. Damn. He had me there. I'd only been out on one dawn patrol in my life, and yet there I was talking as if it were a regular occurrence. Well, as of today, I can now put forth the answer "I get out a couple of times a season". Provided I go for an early morning ski at least 2 times next season I suppose.
I had come home last night in a grumpy mood. My first day back at work after vacation was a rather grim one. All afternoon I had to listen to this high pitched wine coming from the corner of the cubicles where my 10 coworkers and I sit. The buzz was penetrating, like a vacuum cleaner, or a broken computer fan, or heavy construction equipment operating outside. As it turned out, ahem, it was the A440 tone on my metronome emanating from my backpack, which had accidentally switched on. How embawwasing.
But I returned home to great roommates, who had the deep fryer bubbling with chicken drumsticks and fries. Hell yes! Then followed some beer, whiskies, and a game of Settler's of Catan, and a plan to wake up at 5:30 the next day for a dawn patrol.
Amazingly I got out of bed this morning and was out the door with little pfaffing. Unfortunately I didn't realise that the road up to Cypress doesn't open until 7am. Luckily we still had time to get to Seymour and see the sunrise. As to whether I'll go out for my scheduled 4.5 mile run this evening, well, that remains to be seen.