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.
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