do chickens have feelings?

I think they might. Today I drove past a truck full of hens, en route to certain death I've no doubt, and they were staring at me. I mean into the depth of my soul staring. I think one of them telepathically told me to rescue her. I wanted to scream from the window of my *as big as a 747* SUV... "LET HER OUT", but that would have looked kind of hypocritical. The environmentalist animal lover... driving the biggest car known to mankind. OK not the biggest, but still you could fit a whole other car inside my car, so big enough to look gluttonous. Anyway, I've toyed with the idea of being a vegetarian before, both for conscience and health, but when it comes down to it, if I'm not staring the chicken in the eye, she tastes pretty good. When I don't have to look at the cow standing in a pile of her own manure, she tastes al-dang-right. So that is kind of that, so to speak. But today, I swear for about 1 hour and a half I was totally committed to never placing about piece of chicken or beef in my mouth. Totally. For an hour and a half. Then I went to Panera and had a turkey bacon bravo sandwich. But I felt bad eating it. Really bad. I mean it was delicious. But I still felt bad for those chickens. I didn't have a chicken salad sandwich though so that counts for something right? Nah probably not.  

In an attempt to cure my guilt though I'm going to plant 2 trees. One for the chicken and one to offset the carbon footprint left by my giant SUV driving 40 miles to Trader Joe's to buy organic food. Huh? Did that makes sense? I don't think that makes sense. Drive to buy organic? Spend more money and harm the environment to eat more healthy. Something is wrong with this picture... Well it so happens Victoria's Secret is having a semi-annual sale so at least the trip was multi-purpose. If I keep running I'll just ramp up my mileage until I can run the 40 miles. Well anyway. 

So I woke up today and could hardly get my wedding ring off. It's been falling off for months, apparently my fingers had fat in them too. I mean I was considering tying it to myself to keep from dropping it in the sink and now it won't come OFF? Well I didn't do bad with water yesterday but I didn't do great either and I knew it was water weight. So much so that I actually just decided that I would skip weighing this morning because I knew I'd be up and I knew it would be a scale lie. But then, coincidentally enough about an hour and a half later, I weighed myself anyway. Hm. It seems like an hour and a half is my willpower maximum today. But I weighed myself then got mad at the scale and said to it "you're a liar". It's not lying probably it doesn't know how to lie but it's not humanly possible to gain 3 pounds in one day. It's just not. So I'm just going to pretend I didn't see that number and I'm going to drink 2 gallons of water and a cup of the worlds tastiest diuretic, coffee  

I went to the gym, operating at about 60% of capacity I think. I ran on the treadmill. Yay cause that's my FAV! (not) My left heel hurt. My right knee hurt. My head hurt from thinking about my right knee and my left heel. The good news is that the broken leg doesn't hurt, I mean not where it was broken. Everywhere else, but not on the break. Hey I'll take what I can get. So I ran. That hurt. So I walked. That didn't hurt but that also doesn't burn calories like running. That would like comparing an oreo cookie to a piece of Cheesecake Factory cheesecake. So I upped the incline to 10. That hurt again. SO back down to .5 and back to running. That hurt. Back to walking. That didn't hurt. Back to running. And so on and so on. Until 35 minutes had passed and I was frustrated enough that I just stopped. Uh oh it appears that in some circumstances my willpower threshold isn't even an hour and a half. Now I just feel crappy. I've said before, with enthusiasm I might add, that there is nothing that running won't at least improve if not solve. Guess what running does not improve? Feeling like crap. Well technically it improves feeling crappy temporarily. Like an hour and a half. But then endorphins, auf wiedersehen, and welcome back to the pre-run misery with the new added bonus of muscle soreness. I hate to admit it but I might need a break. I might have finally reached the point where my body is saying "hey stooopid why don't you take a rest for pities sake?" OK. OK. Alright already. I'll rest. Sheesh.  

But just an hour and a half.