In preparing to begin training for the Chicago Marathon, I’ve taken a few weeks off running—and working out altogether. This time off has produced an unexpected result. I’ve stopped caring about everything. Seriously.
First, since I’ve stopped working out I started eating like crap. If that translucent orange grease from my pizza drips on my new white dress shirt, I don’t care. If I eat so many Girl Scout cookies I throw-up a little, I just swallow it back down and hope for the best. Yesterday at work a sales rep stopped in and left us a box of 12 Krispy Kreme doughnuts. I ate six of them in less than ten minutes and washed them down with 24 ounces of Mtn Dew (has anyone else noticed the Mountain Dew cans now just say “Mtn”? It’s not like they went phonetic or anything; they just got text lazy.).
Oh, but that isn’t all. I’ve stopped caring about my appearance altogether. I don’t shave (who grows a summer beard unless you’re a hockey player in the playoffs?), I don’t bother showering (why, I’m not working out or sweating…well I do sweat a little while watching TV lately.), and I’ve given up on brushing my teeth (how bad can by breath really get?). Oh, and yesterday when I put my hand on a hot stove, I just really didn’t care to pull it off right away.
And other people. Well, I wouldn’t say I’m misanthropic, but I pretty much hate everyone. And if you are on TV, I automatically hate you (even if you are that guy who saved the box of puppies and kittens out of the burning house). Worse, when I saw a guy running shirtless while carrying his shirt in his hand and while it was 62 degrees and overcast outside, I couldn’t even summon my righteous indignation. I didn’t even swerve my car to give him a scare. At work I’m trying a new program I call the “Only 1” program. Only 1 means I will only give you one word answers. If this is inconvenient, you need to ask better questions.
Also, as of late my ‘career’ has been getting in the way of my overall disillusionment of everything. I’ve had two huge court dates over the past two weeks and a wedding where I delivered a 15 minute best man speech. But now the happy couple is off on their honeymoon, I was victorious in court, and as my first day of training is looming, I have to admit I am beginning to care just a bit again. In fact, I’ve even stopped farting in my office (and have picked up my old habit of doing such awful things in the firm’s library). For anyone who thinks I have ignored you as of late, please know it’s me, not you, and that I’m sorry. If I promise to brush my teeth, can we kiss and make up?