I.m trying a new program of going to bed at or before midnight. This stange and new experience directly corresponds with my "decision" to start jogging which stems from the michelin man who lives around my midsection and the fact that I'm going to turn ~gasp~ t-h-i-r-t-y ~wheeze~ in four months. Since my eyeballs shit the pot, I've decided I need to at LEAST lose some weight before my metabolism goes too. When I got out of the Marine's, I took my legs out to lunch and promised each and every muscle that we would never run again. Not for fire, not for flood. Not for earthquake, typhoon, Cujo, or food poisoning. But I lied. And it's all Tiarra's fault. She goaded me, peer-pressured me GUILTED me into running by telling me things about my heart. Of course, EmEl was the one who told me about all the extra blood and arteries you have to make for every extra pound of lard you have. And that was pretty gross. Anyway, my body was all, "So, you wanna run you FREAKING LIAR? Fine. Watch this." THen my knees were like ZOWWWWWWWWWW and my calves became slabs of meat lathered in Napalm and set on fire, and my toe bones? BRUISED! But Dear Doggy likes it. So we're gonna keep on trying. Besides, I think my heart likes it too.