Laziness kills...

Today is a bad writing day. Although it was my day to get EVERYTHING done, I started the morning going through every piece of paper I have from my freshman year of college to now. There were old papers, and pics (you'll see them soon), and transcripts. Ugh, I think being lazy is ruining my life. I mean, I can't decipher why I accepted such crappy grades or papers with that amount of grammatical errors.

smh.

Sigh, I keep saying 'don't look back' appreciate the now, appreciate the growth. But I was saying to a friend of mine a couple of nights ago that it seems that we - or maybe just me - when tested, I seem to make the same mistakes over and over. I always get number 13 wrong, and end up with a dam B+, okay...C+, instead of the grade I want.

and here's where Rocky, Rocky IV to be precise, comes in...



The training...



The Triumph...

So wouldn't it be nice if life were full of the adrenaline of Rocky IV? Somebody kills your black friend and you train your ass off and then go kick his soviet ass? But life isn't like that...You see him up there on his knees pulling that sled? That's life...I know exactly how he feels (my trainer made me do it). There are beads of sweat dropping in his eyes so he can't see.  The muscle at the top of his shoulder and the one going up the sides of his neck are burning and his elbows are threatening to buckle. His hands are shaking and he probably just broke a nail - well I did anyway. His calves and ankles and lower back -- everything -- are stinging. In that moment you just want to stop. They made it seem so easy in the movie...15 minutes and he was in the best shape of his life...but I learned from the gym...there is a certain pain in moving forward. When I'm running all I can think is "How can you betray me like this? YOU want me to run so I can be healthy and yet you send out these terrible feelings of burning fatigue that take everything in me to keep going? WHY, body, when you could just as easily NOT do that?"

The glaring piece of the puzzle is that Rocky had a push, that dude killed his friend; he can pull that dam sled because somebody murdered his friend! But that's cinema for you, most of the folks I know, when somebody murders their friend, they sit down on the side of life and struggle to ever get up - and rarely do they get to the sled pulling part... Nobody murdered my friend - what the hell is going to make me strap myself to that dam sled and FINISH THIS FUCKING PAPER.

There will be no clean finishes to this blog. No lessons learned. No cute affirmations. I'm in the weeds.