Let's see what we can do with: the schedule.
On the negative side: the Canucks lost in overtime tonight, ending their playoffs far earlier than I would have liked.
On the positive side: it was over thirty degrees here today and I spent most of it working outside.
I'm doing my best to focus on the positive right now.
"We're behind schedule," Sophia stated for the fifth time that hour, pointing at her wristwatch with a long, slender finger. "Well behind, in fact."
"No we're not," I said, unlacing my left boot and letting it drop to the dirt of the trail. Digging my fingers into the aching sole of my foot, I was unable to contain the sigh of relief that slipped from lips. "Have a rest; it'll do us both a world of good."
"But then we'll be even more behind!" She looked as though an aneurysm was imminent. It was difficult not to welcome its arrival with open arms.
"Behind what?" I asked, starting to unlace my right boot.
"Behind what? Behind what, she asks!" Sophia turned to the trees surrounding us for support. I began to massage my right foot. "Behind the schedule, you simpleton!"
"That's not possible," I countered, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my shirt pocket and plucking a smoke from its interior.
"And why, exactly, is that?"