Choices Wednesday, December 05, 2007Two roads diverged in a wood...
Ok, I had to do it. Robert Frost created such a perfect metaphor that I (and of course everyone else who's ever heard the poem) just can't resist to use it when talking about choices. Trite and overused, just deal with it.
My choice last night was not of epic proportions, rather the decision to either have multiple glasses of wine and become slightly inebriated or go to the gym and sweat my ass off. Why would this be such an choice that could effect one's overall mood?
Oh, because I just got dissed by my date. Or dumped or however you want to phrase it. After he bailed on Saturday's date (it was to be our first official one even though we'd been sort of involved already) he then turned around and called me last night to tell me that he's been hanging out with someone else he really, really likes and wants to focus on that. Did he mention that he really likes her? Really likes.
Ok, dude, I get the message. You like this other chick, thanks for repeating over and over again that you like her so.much.more.than.me.
So then came the choice, drink or gym. The choice for me was fairly easy, I was going to go with the alcohol route. Then while trying to peel some hardboiled eggs, which I subsequentally mauled beyond all reason, I realized that I had some excess anger energy to work out.
So I threw on my gym clothes and over an hour later I felt so much better. I left the gym feeling clean and awesome. I was lighter mentally and knew that in the end it was the best decision I could have made.
Then to come down from the endorphin high I had several glasses of wine and eventually slept like a baby.