But then I think about it, and it sounds a lot like this . . .
Yup, my feet hurt. But I'm getting out there and play some ball nonetheless.
And it looks like this:
Sunday, February 17, 2008
My Feet Hurt . . .
Today tastes like fake cherry, pseudo-grape, and paste. I have zero motivation. Everything is in the long drawn-out middle doldrums, past the thrill of the beginning, but before the excitement of the final push.
But then I think about it, and it sounds a lot like this . . .
Yup, my feet hurt. But I'm getting out there and play some ball nonetheless.
And it looks like this:
But then I think about it, and it sounds a lot like this . . .
Yup, my feet hurt. But I'm getting out there and play some ball nonetheless.
And it looks like this:
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