So I have had 1 day off over the past 15 days.
I figure I've been working an average of 65-70 hours per week...
I haven't been running,
I haven't been dating,
I haven't been frequenting the streets of Newport ave. at 2:00AM
and I haven't had a single moment for myself, really.
Does it sound like I'm complaining? Because, believe me, I'm not! I actually love working. I love pushing myself and testing my stamina. I love being proud of myself after a long day and taking pride in the money I earn. It's when I'm not working that I get concerned...
Not working=Bordom
Bordom=Tequila
Tequila=Trouble
Simple as that.
This week though, I've penciled in some much needed "me" time. After tomorrow, I have 3 days off in a row (including my first Friday off in over a year) and I'm going to spend it with my daughter...preferably at a beach.
I'm going to make time for my friends and go running every morning.
My running shoes are calling my name.
And this week, I'm answering.
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