. . . is a great guy. I've liked him since day one. I liked the stereo in his car, and it was so cool that he let me drive it a few times. I've always appreciated how much he loved my sister, and how much she loved him. He was probably the only person who really knew how I felt when I got in my motorcycle accident. He was a really big support to me. I've always been proud to have him as a part of my family.
We have a lot in common, but one of those things is not our love for exercise. That is actually what this post is about, not really about him at all (sorry Adam). I signed up for a weights class so that I could work out at school. You need to work out forty hours to get an "A" in the class. I think that I am almost at nine hours for the semester. And I feel like I am going A LOT. I just really don't like the gym that much . . .