I want to make Dianna Zheng laugh.

Today was a mediocre jog. I’ve done worse. I’ve done better. I jogged the first mile in 13 minutes. Wasssuppp! But that second mile was, as my lil brother likes to say “re-dik-uh-lo”. I was going at such as snail’s pace and I had to walk about a minute twice. If my math serves me correctly I walked about two minutes of my 29 minute jog. Yeah, 29 minutes. Can you say, “FAIL”? Okay, I’m being a bit dramatic.  I mapped out my route tonight and it was 2.21 miles. 

It’s starting to get dark earlier. I’m sure this happens annually, but I’ve never noticed before. At the beginning of the summer it started getting dark at 9 p.m. Now it’s dark by 8:30. As I’m jogging under the creepy fenced in overpass, I can almost hear my grandma’s voice screeching at me that I “just don’t understand California,” which is some sort of cryptic message that reminds me to be careful. You know, I’m just a naive Southern Peach from the land of sweet tea and “yes, ma'ams”. But I digress. My point being, I don’t like to jog in the dark, but if I jog any earlier my dinner is probably not digested. I’m too much of a pansy to jog in the morning. 

I feel morally obligated to have an awkward jogging montage scene in the next film I make. Art imitates life.