I've taken up boxing in order to both get regular exercise and to find something to focus my rage on other than random Internet commenters who annoy me. Mostly it's going well.

Unfortunately I come home from the gym and I don't want to do anything but lay on the couch with a beer and whine about how tired I am. Which also precludes doing things that require uprooting myself from my prostrate position on the couch (or the floor), like cooking.

I thought I was fine, and went to bed planning to fall asleep, but I got sucked into the comments on Kirov's latest post and my stomach immediately launched a coup d'état against my brain and demanded food around 1:30am.

I drove to what is ostensibly a 24 hour cafe about a mile from my apartment only to find it closed. I found another place about 15 minutes away and, because I'm really smart, drank coffee with my scrambled eggs, ham, English muffin and queso because that's what you do at breakfast.

It's now 3:15am and, because I got up and came back late, my cat won't fucking shut up. She's fine - she's a chatty beast and she's still a little weirded out that we live in a new place and I am now the only one she lives with that she can bug for attention. She's currently trying to burrow under the covers. Awwww.

I hope it freezes over again so I can "work from home" but I'm not that lucky. Ugh.