“rule #1: main bitches do not mention their fellow main bitches in the same sentence as the bitch that the main bitch dislikes”
— My Main Beezy is giving me a hard time and has now decided, rules should be put into place.
The little things…
Hello, world.
I have decided, even though a whole lot of people don’t actually take notice of this blog anyway, (I love you if you do!) I am still going to use it to vex and vent now and again.
So, I have been feeling rather slummy recently, and I think last night was just about as much as I could handle. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or why I have been so unhappy, if it means anything in the bigger picture or it’s just some silly phase that everyone goes through every now and then. All I know is I wasn’t enjoying it. All of a sudden I found myself with track shoes on, music in my ears, running through the streets of London.
I don’t remember preparing to go out, grabbing my keys or even fastening my laces. It’s a good thing I’m usually decently attired when moments of spontaneity arrive, if you get my drift. Anyway, there is something so euphoric about rushing through the night air, with a good song on repeat and knowing you’re doing your body a bid of goodwill. I feel so blithe. I suppose it’s something to do with my exertion releasing endorphins et al? Endorphins is a cool word don’t you think?
This is was such a simple thing to do, and I no longer feel like throwing myself under a supermarket trolley being pushed by an OAP who cannot find her favourite brand of denture sanitizer. Hell hath no fury like a pensioner scorned. Scary shit.
Cannot understand why I never had this freakish moment of ‘up & at em!’ sooner. But I feel really good now regardless. I feel as if I am actually in control of my life for the first time in months, just because I went for a run.
Anyone who is feeling a little too close to crappy, take yourself off to the gym or go for a run! You’ll feel so different, at least feel a little less overwhelmed. I promise.
I do however, need to harness my inner impetuous self - 3 A.M. ventures into London, unless inebriated, are not usually wise.
Gasping like a whore, truth be told. Need to start eating healthier.
Though I’m feeling all “Seize the day!” mentally , my aching ass is telling me to seize my pillow!
-x-
Please forgive my appalling sentence structure etc. It’s late/early.
I sometimes think I am not doing stuff that matters, my priorities. Then I realize I’m watching 30 Rock, so all is found to be justified.
