DOMS

DOMS- delayed onset muscle soreness. Or, in my case, delayed onset mental stress. The last 48 hours have been all kinds of painful. Got a call saying my dad is in the ER. Went back to working normal shifts because third shift days are over. Got a letter of rejection, pretty much a "dear john letter", from Macys. Oh! Wait! It gets better. Was told by New York that he has a special someone, and that his intentions with me (YET AGAIN!) are strictly platonic, for the time being. Well thank cheesecake it's only for the time being...whatashmuck!...since I only have one remaining martini glass I decided not to throw it across the room like the fated glasses that went before it. Since I'm done with smoking the anger away, I refused to buy a pack. And since I don't have a special someone to have an angry make out session with. I went running. At two in the morning. For a very, very, very long time. So today I'm feeling some hardcore DOMS, but since I'm still feeling some hardcorse DOMS, I'm lacing up my gymshoes and charging the iPod for round two. Funny how DOMS leads to DOMS. OH! And it's really funny how relationships lead to bad romances. Which, in turn, lead to good remixes which give way to great playlists. DOMS ain't got nuthin on me!

“Run like hell and get the agony over with.” -Clarnece DeMar