Incoherently Yours

As some of you may know, I did something completely out of character and signed up to run a 5K. (P.S. Wanna sponsor me? http://cibcrunforthecure.supportcbcf.com/site/TR/?fr_id=2371&pg=pfind  and put in my name in the search field. Yep, the team name is Jogging for Jugs.) I do not run. I do not jog. The only reason I walk fast is because I'm tall and that just happens to be my stride. But, I wanted something to motivate me to get fit. Okay, honestly, I wanted to terrify myself into getting moving and being consistent. My plan wasn't working very well, as I've been saying I'm going to start running for...oh, y'know, about the last two and half weeks. Excuses are just so readily available. I don't like mornings. It's too hot to run in the afternoon. Sheldon is busy in the evenings so he can't watch the boys while I take off. So today I decided to forget the excuses and I hopped on my elliptical. I'm aware that going on the elliptical is not t

                I have kept a journal since I was about ten years old. I still have all of them. Before you think too highly of this accomplishment, I’d like to point out I’m not a very good journaller, as often there are months and months in between entries. And besides that, if I could sum up my adolescent journaling in one word, it would probably be “embarrassing.” Sometimes I think it’s a fun idea to go into my closet and find my old journals and read through them. I am completely alone and still horrified to the point of blushing and laughing so hard I’m crying at some of the things I wrote. The old crushes. And the names of crushes written over… and over… The angst. (My gosh, the ANGST.) The whole world is ending teenage drama. The no one loves me. The UGH MY PARENTS. The I don’t know what to do with my life boohooing. I don’t know why I keep them, because I think I’d die of humiliation if anyone read parts of them. But in between the embarrassing posts, there’s the ones that