Guy on a bike, in passing, says to me,
“Good investment.”
I assume he meant running,
but who knows.
A few more feet down the path,
he fist pumps.
12 miles, 12:50 pace.
Tomorrow, I start training to be a mail carrier for the United States Postal Service. I’m still doubtful as to whether I actually have a job, mostly because this job search has been so unpredictable. I continue to assume the worst, but I’m feeling slightly optimistic since no one has said I don’t have the job.
runjournal 