  So I started softball again 3 weeks ago hoping to get in shape before the wedding. Its terrible. Im so out of shape that when I run around the bases I hear my thighs slapping together. At least I can still hit homers, I must hit it pretty far because I feel like a Turtle running around the bases.
When I wake up the next morning after a game I can barely move. Its awful. So Im packing up my apartment after living here with Brad for three years. Im a little sad but happy at the same time. No more Phil Collins blaring in the window at 2:00AM on Saturday night from the single guy living across the way.
I just don't see how anyone can listen to that when they are "getting down". I know thats what he is doing because a large part of my apartment experience has been smoking cigarettes, observing the habits of others on my balcony. I feel a bit like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window. I know what everyone drives and who are their significant others. I have never spoken to any of them. So I say Good Bye to all the freaks on the other side of Dartmouth Way. I will not miss you. 
