where I want to hurl things—SHARP THINGS—at people. And not people in general; just a few very specific soul-draining, energy-sapping, life-destroying, hurled-object-deserving people who are BRINGING ME DOWN.
And this has nothing to do with you-all and your COMPLETELY MISGUIDED comments about my alleged troll feet. I HAVE VERY SEXY FEET! This I have been told repeatedly by paramours, friends and even complete strangers. SO THERE.
Besides, these feet have run marathons, hiked mountains, danced in ballets and tap numbers and swing shows, and even traipsed around GRACEFULLY in very large high heels. And they still look DAMN GOOD.
They also ran nine miles last night in what was cool, breezy and altogether PERFECT running weather. And the bloody, scabby things on my left foot didn’t hurt or ooze one bit the whole time. So I should be in my customary post-long-run euphoria today, BUT I’M NOT.
Unfortunately, the hurled-object-deserving people responsible for my unbecoming temperament today probably don’t even know I have a blog, so they’ll never see this post, recognize the way they’re BRINGING ME DOWN and mend their ways.
And now that I have all this cathartic vaguery off my chest, I actually feel much better anyway. So thank you for listening. And thank you for quietly tolerating my temporary fetish for writing in all caps. And thank you for not BRINGING ME DOWN.