Emo Krista has left the internet.

Oh my god, you guys. What the hell? Here I up and let this emo blog post sit and stare at you for DAYS. Everybody's whispering behind my back all, "What is WITH her? Jesus. Buck up, champ." Meanwhile, I'm just fine. That "day" has passed. OK, so maybe it was more like two-and-a-half days, but a girl needs time to be bitchy and whiny. You understand. So what's been happening? I feel like I've been out sick. Who's kissing who? Who broke up? Who's that new kid in study hall?

You know, I still don't have internet at home. I'm back in the coffee shop, which, seriously, has become my new favorite place. I mean, this place has a couch. Like, a comfy one. I don't even have a couch in my apartment. Even when I get the internet back - which is hopefully today, if the stars align - I will probably still gravitate here just for the couch. Coffee's not bad either.

Not much new happening here. I mean, some interesting things, but apparently I can't write about those things on the internet. Blogging. Gah... what's the point? (Insert bitchy passive-aggressiveness here). Oh wait. I just inserted it myself. Had some lovely ladies in town over the weekend. We spent the afternoon running 13 miles around the lake, then wandering State Street in hopes of magical food and awesomeness. We found it.

My running's still been going awesome. I dare say I'm proud of myself. My speed has significantly improved, which is giving me high hopes for my marathon(s). If nothing else, I'm just feeling better. I can run longer distances at a faster pace and feel good. So, I win. Of course, I say all of this as I'm sitting in the coffee shop, shamelessly avoiding the speed workout I have to do today.

I've also finally gotten off my proverbial ass and actually started applying for jobs. Real jobs. Jobs that will allow me to feel like a productive part of society again. Jobs with purpose and jobs that require talent. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS ANYMORE. So, there's that. It'll happen. And I will sit here on my proverbial job-hunting ass as long as it takes until my magical job falls into my lap.

And on that note, happy Hump Day. Go get 'em, tigers.