I’m going to be full of cliches today; that’s about all I can manage.
Went back to the gym today with the intention of running 2 more miles. I’m still hoping exercise will make me feel better, but it’s failing miserably. Anyway I got about a half a mile in and had pain in my legs, probably from overuse and not taking any rest. Along with not eating well and generally failing to take care of myself. (As much as I wish it was, multiple beers is not dinner.) So I quit. And now on top of all the other bad feelings I have the wonderful feeling of failure. Maybe I should’ve pushed through it, but then what do I get? A feeling of accomplishment for having punched myself in the face?
Anyway, at least I’m wearing my pretty underwear. If life is going to suck, at least I can wear pretty underwear.