Bad Boy.

"Are you exercising like you're supposed to?" Dr. Mathur was giving me the hard look. She's good at that. Even with her beautiful eyes and gorgeous face, she knows how to give me "the look." I was suddenly the bad student caught chewing gum in class.

"Well..." I hemmed and hawed. "I've been going out every morning for my run."

She zeroed in.

"And are you running?"

"Well..." I hemmed and hawed. "Sometimes I just walk fast..."

She zeroed in.

"Are you doing your full route?"

"Well..." I hemmed and hawed. "Kinda..."

"Look," she said. "Your blood glucose level is 6.8. Last time it was 6.2. It was headed down in the right direction. This is still an okay level but I want to get those levels down! You were headed in the right direction. What are you not doing? How do you explain this?"

I have been going out every morning. I make myself go out every morning. But I still hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

There I said it. I hate running. I hate excercise.

I can sit here behind my computer monitor for a day without moving anything but the mouse. I'm a born geek. I'm editing video or working on music. I hate doing exercise. And I've been making myself get up and run. Or walk. Or something.

I hate breathing hard. I hate it when I'm exhausted.

I'm a bad person.

"Is it your diet? What are you eating?"

I didn't want to say. I was bad in San Francisco. I ate french fries a lot. I shouldn't eaten the french fries. But I did eat the french fries. And the blood tests she was looking at were done right after I got back. Maybe this is just an anomaly. I don't eat french fries when Jim cooks for me.

I was depressed driving home. I wanted to pull into Jack in the Box and have french fries.

But I didn't. And of course the traffic was annoying. Soo many cars. Where are all these people going? Why are they getting in my way? It took me an hour to get home! Laurel Canyon Boulevard was just jammed with cars. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??

I finally got home and we had pasta, so I poked around the pasta and ate as much of the turkey burger part as I could, leaving behind as much pasta as I could. Then I laid my head down on the couch about 9pm and went to sleep and didn't wake up until 5:30am -- except for one brief moment when I had to take my pills at 10, and again around midnight when Susan Hayward was gettin' all Susan Hayward on someone's ass.

When I finally did get up, I was groggy and depressed. So I dutifully put on my running gear, opened the door, went into the courtyard to go do my duty to my body.

And it's raining.