I've been beating myself up (with a little help, thanks) all day. My psyche looks about as black and blue as my knee (which, if it gets more colorful, you'll get pictures).
I'm pretty sure all that consternation didn't make me a better goalie, but I can tell you one thing, I sure do feel like getting drunk.
Drunk? HAAAAAAMMMMMMERRRRRED...
Or maybe I need to have a crazy liquor and cheeseburger party.
Either way, I've gotta blow off some steam before I go any more mental. But seeing as how most of my friends are employed or otherwise engaged in responsible adult activities that prohibit Tuesday night benders, I guess I'll just get up early and go for a run. Please, baby Jesus, let there be hot boys to look at while I run. I don't ask for much.
I'm sitting in the middle of my living room floor, finished with the back, shoulders and arms portion of my workout. Between watching episodes of 30 Rock on Hulu and various other distractions, I'm 2 hours into this workout now. ADD much?
And I've still gotta do abs. There's another hour, IF I focus. But I got Shakabuku in my head and sometimes the only thing to do about that is to blog it. So there ya go. The Shakabuku clip from Grosse Pointe Blank. You youngsters out there, if you haven't seen GPB, go rent it. Great movie.
Usually I'm only thinking that word when I need a little Shakabuku of my own. *sigh*
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In other news, I'm trying something new. I'm no longer taking Monday's off from workouts, because a) I'm not as tired on Mondays as I used to be (hey, this working out thing works!) and b) I lose my momentum and can't get geared up again until Wednesday or Thursday.
So I ran yesterday. At noon. In 100 degree heat. And easily 80% humidity (it was gross). Because I knew if I didn't, I wouldn't do it at all. The good thing is that because the sun came out, I found the will to do more running to get to the next shady spot.
And more hot guys had their shirts off, and they were moving a bit slower than usual, so I had a fighting chance to keep up. I wasn't moving any slower, because I really CAN'T move much slower and still call it running, so, ya know--Win, win!
The best news is that I've got a date to get my drink on with Amanda tomorrow night at the Leaf. No hockey on the TVs, but as long as they keep filling up my Blue Moon glass and giving me orange wedges and as long as Amanda just nods and smiles while I drunkenly air my grievances and try to avoid crying about them, I'll be golden. Yay fun!
Okay, back to Abs. At this rate, dinner will be a glass of milk in bed.
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