Yesterday I received a rather unpleasant voice mail.* Someone wanted to rip me a couple of new nostrils, or maybe two nostrils and an anus.
At any rate, I was mildly perturbed by the situation. I pondered it long and hard.
What I didn't do? Is binge eat. Or drink more than the usual glass of wine with dinner.
Instead, I found myself thinking: "I can't wait to head to the gym tomorrow and get on the treadmill."
Pal Fiddledeedee said it best: "Just imagine--the gym rats and tennis playing girls were right all along."
Exercise is the best, cheapest, OTC treatment for anxiety and depression. Two months of gym going, and I'm addicted.
I don't crave Doritos. I crave enDorphins
*Understated a la WASP. But then I thought, how will anyone be able to tell that I was upset? So I stuck in some italics.