I have a 3 mile run I have to do today because I didn't do it this morning.
And I just want to fall into bed and cry. Don't ask me how this happened, I was fine 3 hours ago, everything was awesome. Now, not so much.
But if I get home and I just crawl into bed, I'll regret not going for a run, even if it's not going to make any fucking difference anyway, because I'm not losing weight and it doesn't seem to matter how long I run because I'm still going to be fat for my friends wedding, despite eating well and working out.
Oh, and I'm gonna have a huge fucking scar on my back from my surgery. Sexy.
I just want to crawl into a hole and not talk to anyone for a week.
But I'm gonna do the mother-fucking run. It might not make me feel better, but at least I'll feel justified if I want to crawl into bed after, tell the world to fuck off, and spend the rest of the night hating everything.