I'm the only one who listens to me

I broke out the full winter running gear today, which is odd considering I didn't have to wear a coat on Friday. Bygones. The first cold run is always a little shocking; your lungs have to suck in all that non-pre-warmed air, and man, they do not like it one bit. They tried to have a little convo with me, but they had to war with the rest of my body. Damn, bitch, that is cold! Seriously! Let's go back inside, okay? Sure, it was overly warm in there, and I'm pretty sure there's some sort of deadly spore in that recycled air, but it's not so bad! Hey, wait. Stop it. We like Eminem as much as you, but that's no reason to be running faster. No reason at all! It was hard to concentrate on their bitching when the rest of my body was whining about the fact that we were moving at all. We don't like this. Shut up! Do no listen to the legs. They only thought they were restless. They are, in fact, tired. Very tired. And cold. They miss your sweatpants. And your couch. And what about those mashed potatoes? You got any more of those? No? What about some of that stuffing? That was good. Well, I'm pretty sure there's some change in the bottom of your purse. Betcha there's enough for some Ring-Dings from the vending machine.