With my 31st birthday a little over a week away, I've decided to try to arrest the march of time by getting myself a gym membership. Today, I bask in new-gym euphoria. I'm going to go five days a week! I'm going to do yoga and take belly-dancing classes! I'm going to learn kickboxing! I'm going to look svelte and strong and totally fucking awesome by June! Right after I finish this beer!
I had to do something. Moving in with Devon, I packed on 10 pounds. Since August. Because he ties me to a chair and force-feeds me lard and vegetable oil-infused vodka. I've lost 6 of those pounds, but if I want to eat his tasty omelets, I need to get moving.
I'm writing all this here in the hopes that public shame will motivate me. If I don't do these things, you all get to point and laugh and mock me for being a lazy-ass.
Let it be known I did it all for the omelets.