UPDATE: Secret Lovers

I woke up today with a different perspective after the silent rejection I experienced last night. I think that maybe it was the fact that my McDonald's milkshake remained only half digested in my stomach, as does all of McDonald's products. Basically I felt gross, which made me hate men even more. After all, as one of my bulimic friends once told me, "A moment on the lips goes straight to the hips." Today, I resolved to not letting some soccer player that I'm too good for make me fat by inducing cravings for high fructose corn syrup because he kept his paws off me last night. It's just not going to happen.

So I went for a run to burn off those sympathy carbs that I chugged down like cough syrup last night. I'm running and running and running. Then walking to catch my breath. Then it happened. *HONK HONK* and a loud "YEAAAAAAAA" from the road. My spirits were lifted, my posture suddenly improved. It was as if I were Popeye and someone had just thrown me a can of spinach. I turned my head to see. "Lexus? Mercedes?! BMW?!?!" No. Toyota Pickup... with gardening tools crammed into the flatbed. Poo.

My posture was slumped over once again. I walked the rest of the way, dreaming for a moment where I'd be running this same trail and for once be demoralized by a professional man driving a luxury vehicle. The sun was about to set as I made it back to the car, and I looked out into its faint glimmer. I made a tight fist and shook it in front of me. Tomorrow is a brand new day, I told myself. Tomorrow is the day that I'll be honked at by a suit in a $60,000 car.