Of course the errands took longer than I thought they would. There were thunderstorms coming and I'm sure there was some other reason to make me think that skipping the gym would be a good idea.
BUT I WENT TO THE GYM. And once I had one sock changed, I realized my goddamn fucking sport bra was not in my bag. One of these days, I learn to understand myself. I'm pretty sure my subconscious was telling me to skip the gym because I didn't have my bra. But no, I knew better. I was going to be good and virtuous and work out.
Instead, I wasted time and put myself in pain because I had to pee from the time I left Target, all through the congested drive back to Minneapolis, while I dropped my package off at Fed Ex and then got to the gym parked, went in, tried to change and then left.
The storms didn't start shortly after I arrived home. I sat out on the deck to watch the weather roll in, but it didn't roll in. That was about the best thing I did with my time.
I had all of this found time tonight, and I totally fucking wasted it. Aside from my errands and aborted gym visit, all I did was come home and fuck around. I didn't work or bake or clean or read or cook. I ate crappily and I'm drinking and watching a Modern Family repeat. Well, now I'm on to the new season finale.
I have failed in my Wednesday night.