A moment ago I was sitting in the bathroom (where most good ideas, um, originate) and it occurred to me why I’m feeling so blah today.
I missed my run yesterday.
Okay, it was only one run. And it was supposed to be about four miles. And I’m running tomorrow, and hopefully Sunday, too. But I think sleeping in three days in a row (to the oh-so-late time of 6:30) has thrown me into a mini-funk.
I hope that’s all it is. I hope it’s nothing more sinister, more bigger than that.
I see a red door and I want to paint it black
no colors anymore I want them to turn black…
See, I’m even hearing depressing lyrics. Gah! Maybe I’m just feeling let down that Britney hasn’t married again, yet.
(It is that time of year: Blah! Humbug. And all that such stuff.)
What – Brit isn’t married again yet? But…but…whhhhyyyyy? (protracted whine) 🙂
That happens. Get back out and run.
What, didn’t anybody tell you that running was addictive & had a massive withdrawal effect? 😉