For Naught

I did go running this morning.

Three miles.

Ish.

But shortly afterward José and Mark picked me up and we went to the food park in SoMa where I put into my mouth (and swallowed) chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs and French fries shaped like waffles.

Subtract a mile.

Dammit.

It crossed my mind to re-run once I got home but Julie texted and now we're headed to Cat's 'Friendsgiving' party in North Beach where I'll undoubtedly consume more edible materials.

Subtract another mile.

Shit balls.

I don't remember considering calories before I started reading Bridget Jones's damn diary last week.

No wonder she's single.

Nag.