So to the man walking his yellow Lab on 45th Ave: I'm sorry you had to witness me with my hand hovering over my mouth, chanting, "Don't throw up in the gutter! Don't throw up in the gutter!" At 4:15, I woke up with a terrible migraine. Imitrex, vomiting, riding the exercycle as hard as I could for nearly an hour, coffee, and Excedrin migraine had not completely cured it. So I decided the only solution was a five-mile run. If you can make it to the end, you often do feel better. The down side is that you feel like crap the whole time you're running. Modest Mouse, Sufjan Stevens, and Pink notwithstanding. Hence the little conversation with myself. I'm sorry I alarmed you.
And to the old couple standing in your bathrobes on the porch of a house and puffing away: I'm sorry you had to hear me say, "Ugh! What are they burning? Garbage?" while I waved my hand dramatically in front of my face. When I said that, I was looking at the cloud of smoke coming from your neighbor's chimney. When I spotted you and realized YOU were the source of the horrible smell, I turned my hand gesture into a feeble wave and tried to turn my grimace into a grin.
I don't think you were fooled. You must have been visiting someone and gone out to the porch for a smoke. But for your own sakes, maybe you should give up the cigs.