Don't mistake me. When everyone was complaining about losing one little hour of sleep to Daylight Savings, I was saying that I'd gladly go a whole week without sleep just for the extra sunlight. I will always love summer because it never feels like the sun sets after lunchtime. But warmer weather means you have to wear half as much clothing, and I feel like I'm a naked potato in shorts.
Rewind about one month, and brace yourself. I... started... running... My little sister put us on the couch potato program leading up to a 5K. Two weeks in, I threw my knee out. It took me another two to recover. Do you see how much my calories love me? They conspire with every part of my body to ensure their survival. Now my sister is way ahead of me, and instead of blog-bitching, I just need to get my asterisk on the treadmill and catch up.
I’m hemorrhaging friends, by the way. I really need to make a rule for myself: you can go on Facebook at any time of the day, but you’re only allowed to post things and comment during the “reality” hours of 12-2pm. If I had made that rule from the beginning, I wouldn’t have the problem that I do now.
It goes like this: I feel unrealistically good about my wit, I make a funny comment on somebody’s post, the comment ends up being out of place, and then, the only thing I know to do in order to save face is delete the friend I made the comment to. It’s probably not necessary to delete friendships that I’ve somehow made awkward, but when one little comment makes me feel like the fat kid in middle school with sweat beads on his mustache, it’s the only option that comes to me.
Note to self: technology is wonderful, but just don’t go ruining your reputation at a rate of 11 megabits per second.