Convincing myself that my running shoes are just a tad too far away,
or that my socks aren't dry enough to prevent another outbreak of athlete's foot (what, me, athelete's foot? never),
or that my office laptop is actually a terminator sent back in time to destroy me, slowly,
or that getting clothed right now would be a task worthy of hercules himself. Then again, Greek demi Gods usually potter about in varying degrees of undress...
So, yes, about Sundays. And their glory.
Its the day that hope springs eternal. A day that fills our bosoms with dreams of expanding the realm of whats possible. That spurs us onto greater heights, and makes us laugh in the face of despair and defeat. A day we rally every last iota of our being, our strength, and our courage, to prepare for the battle that lies ahead. A day where we....
Sigh.
