Should I be running right now? Totes magotes.

Hi, Internets. I'm just sitting around. Waiting for everything in the universe to align in such a way that I know it's a good time to go running. I know it's not a good time right now because I'm sort of thirsty and trying to get rid of the tiny headache I woke up with. It seems unfair to have a headache when I didn't do any drinking last night, but oh well. I really do need to go running, though. I ate cheese fries AGAIN last night and, while I did not partake in any 123 GoBox action at the movies, we did go to Graeter's afterward and I totes magotes got a chocolate milkshake.

We saw I Love You, Man, which is why I cannot stop quoting Paul Rudd. I think, in the past 12 hours or so, I have said, "totes magotes," approximately 87 times and I've almost perfected saying "slappin' da bass, mon," like a leprechaun. Anyway.

Crap. My iPod is fully charged now. Almost time to go running. I need to eat a banana first. You know, for energy.

I'm sort of too tired to go running because I spent part of the morning being really productive and going through stuff in my room to get rid of. Because the only time I feel inspired to get rid of anything is when I'm moving. Otherwise I don't throw anything away because OH MY GOD WHAT IF I NEED IT? It's a problem. Then there are those things that I have no use for, but I can't get rid of, like yearbooks and journals from high school. What can you do with those, other than shove them under the bed so no one ever, ever looks at them?

I think that's it. You are all caught up with my life. Oh! Except. Earlier I took some stuff to the dumpster and a goose chased me through the parking lot. I wasn't even doing anything to it! I even walked way around it so I wouldn't bother it, and I didn't make eye contact because geeses hate it when you make eye contact. It's true. The goose told me so when it chased me. It also threatened to cut me, which is total bullshit because what's it gonna do? Hold a switchblade in it's beak? Please. Don't be ridiculous.

Just kidding, goose, please don't cut me.

Fin.