I haven't been able to put actual words on this blog in days. I return day after day, hour after hour, and try to be inspired, and no. Nothing. It's like constipation of the worst kind. Or erectile dysfunction. I guess they call it writers block, but I think I prefer erectile dysfunction of the weblog because it makes me laugh a little. I also have the sense of humor of an 11-year-old, but that's neither here nor there. We've got to laugh, right? What's the difference where it comes from?
Unless you're laughing at an amputee or a bug drowning in a puddle. Because that's just wrong.
I'm still here. Still alive. I still run, though not as often as I'd like because
I'm lazy it gets dark early, and who wants to run in the dark? I've got about 13 more excuses if you'd like to hear them.
I need to run. I need to incorporate it back into my daily routine because running is cheaper than therapy. This blog used to be cheaper than therapy, too, and easier than running, until that time I ran out of words. Yesterday.
Excuse No. 6 of Why I Don't Run is because I don't have running pants. And it's cold. I'd run in my running shorts, but then my thighs turn fluorescent red and I can't feel them for a good two or three hours.
Sure, I have sweatpants. But running in over-sized, over-used Abercrombie & Fitch sweatpants circa freshman year of college is about as useful as running in a sleeping bag. I am not opposed to you buying me these. Thanks in advance.
I have more excuses, but I'll leave it at that.
So that's where I've been. That's what I've been doing. Life constipating. Too lazy to run and too empty to blog. It'll pass. Besides, I'm nearing my two-year blogging anniversary, oh my God, are your squealing?
That's monumental, you guys.
Two years of reading useless facts about my life. Don't you feel foolish?