I have been sitting in my car, in the gym parking lot for nearly thirty minutes. I can’t bring myself to go in. I know I will feel better if I go, I have everything I need to spend some time… but here I sit. I haven’t been here in almost a week. There is absolutely no reason for me not to go in. Raaaaaarr curse this lazy, fat-girl brain of mine. Does this feeling go away? I am sure that once this becomes more of a habit that it’ll be easier, but I wonder if I’ll still have days where I sit out here.
Okay, okay, fine. I’m going in. I’ll probably take it easy, but it’s better than sitting on my ass at home, right?
Aaaaaany minute now. Wait for it… wait for it…
(Now my brain is trying to tell me that I should just come back later, that I’ll probably have the place to myself and will certainly have access to the giant fan. But dudes, if I go home, I’m not leaving again til morning. We both know that.)
Okay. I am really going in this time. I think. I’m trying to picture my ex’s face when he sees me all thin and rad and I totally blow him off for being a dumbass.
Okay, okay, okay. It’s go time. It’s been like 45 minutes. Now I can’t tell if I really want to sit here, or if I’m enjoying writing. I CAN WRITE ANY TIME.
Seriously going in now.