I live to slog another day

As I sit here recovering from my slog, listening to the sound of gun fire (from what I hope is someone target shooting in their backyard) I wonder, "Where the hell were you when I was slogging?" I would've totally welcomed a shot to the leg and would've thanked you profusely for ending my misery because I realized as I slogged along today that I. HATE. RUNNING.

Let's back up a step. I hate it so much that I have lost the will to even care what I look like as I slog. Case in point...today I appeared to have been dressed by a blind person in a white long john material type shirt with blue sleeves, black pants with pink stripes down the sides, my blue/grey kicks, and a yellow hat. Actually a blind person probably would've dressed better than I do.

So I'm slogging along thinking about how much I hate it and I come to realization #2: I'm just gonna be overweight. I'm gonna get my nails did (cause have you ever noticed that overweight people always have the best nails), I'm gonna do my hair everyday, I'm gonna buy clothes that fit me in the correct size instead of trying to squeeze my size 16 into a 12 because I'm too cheap to buy new clothes and I keep thinking I'm gonna lose weight, and I'm gonna embrace my love of food and wine.

So I slogged down to Main St. (with much walking along the way) and I'm on my way back (with walking punctuated by a brief jog across an intersection if a car was there) when I see a house that must've had $15,000 worth of landscaping done today. I mean there were 5 landscape trucks there. Some guys were still out front (and let me say I ain't never seen landscapers that looked like these in Florida) so I say, "Wow...gasp for air...looks...gasp...really...gasp...good." He may have thought I was the handicapped child that the street sign says lives in the area.

Now let me emphasize...I wouldn't run if someone was chasing me with a chainsaw so imagine my dismay when I come up on the gaggle of turkeys that live in our neighborhood. 8 freaking huge turkeys. Turkeys are mean and these sons of bitches are walking across the road in front of me. And I know I can't outrun these turkeys and they know I can't outrun them. So I pick up a rock and throw it at one of the turkeys hoping to scare them away. I accidentally hit one of them which only enrages it. So, I see a a branch lying in the yard next to me and I pick it up and prepare to defend myself. Imagine the fight scene from West Side Story....except it's me versus 8 turkeys. The lead turkey starts coming towards me so I start swinging the stick around my head and run towards the turkey. As the turkeys turn tail and run I stand, victorious, in the middle of the road screaming at their retreat,

"Gotcha suckers!"