The realities.

People will not call you back; but when you call them a second time and casually mention you've been trying to reach them all day, they'll provide more information than you've time to work with. The information relayed will never be simple; "I need more time, it's gotten far more interesting" will never sound like a feasible excuse, honest as it may be. The cold will never free you of coughs, fine as you feel; you will tweak a muscle on the top of your foot just as you start developing the emotional need to run. Checking your email will not make you feel better; people won't write you when you are desperate for something, anything, interesting to read. You will not get the praise you deserve when you deserve it; you might get praise for something foolish far after the fact. You will not have time to work on the letter you want to send out; you're too busy waiting for the phone to ring to draft the letter that demands your entire focus and concentration.

I don't care if it's dark or raining kittens. I'm going running today, even if that run takes place upon arriving home from an unexpectedly extra-long day. The foot muscle (honestly, how can one complain about such a stupid discomfort) must be worked a bit so it doesn't tighten up and render moot the running progress made.

Notes to self: Buy new running shoes. Buy iPod (or at least dream of buying iPod). WRITE LETTER. And breathe.