I just drove the 5-mile route I've been running for the past two weeks and discovered that it's actually only 4.6 miles. I've been strutting around all proud of my < 9-minute pace -- but apparently I have nothing to be proud of.

I certainly can't be proud of the fried egg rolls I ate after watching Last Holiday with Jana. (Nor can any of us be proud of Queen Latifah, for that matter.)

Can I be proud of the fact that I spent 45 minutes working on physics? I guess that depends on whether or not I spend the rest of the evening getting drunk and watching Our Sons (which I TiVO'd earlier today).