Back From A Run

I have minions. And a key. AND...endorphins.

So yeah, work is going great, I have a schedule now, a routine all worked out, and I charted a short running course for me tonight. Here I am, in a great, inexpensive, hardwood-floor'd apartment, freshly back from a run in IDEAL outside running conditions. I live in a quiet, quaint little town where I can do things like always leave my door unlocked and run by myself after dark.

Maybe it's the endorphins talking, or the fact that I'm going to hop into THE greatest shower ever designed in a few minutes, but things are going rather swimmingly of late.

For me, anyway. Because I've only just started scraping the pieces of exploded heart muscle from the speckled blue linoleum of a kitchen floor. I thought my summer project would be something fun and memory-lane-esque, but it turns out that I'm relegated back to my old job of hope-holder. I'm good at it because I'm consistent. Just like now, how I'm finally happy because I actually have a complete routine.