Today my boss told me I looked tired. I thanked him for telling me I looked like crap, and then continued to work. Don't ever tell me I look tired on a Monday morning, or ever for that matter. Because more than likely I am tired and by telling me I look tired tells me that I can't fake any sort of emotion.
To help with my tiredness, what I would really like to do is hoard the Cadbury Mini Eggs that are on my coworkers desk. Getting doped up on sugar sounds really good right now. Only because against my better judgment, I have decided to join my friends in a fitness plan that eliminates soda, fast food, fried foods and pretty much all sweets. Oh, and it requires me to work out 4 times a week. I am pretty sure this is the stupidest thing I have ever agreed to do. Well, I take that back, this was the stupidest thing I agreed to do. But this comes in a close second. A very close second.
Apparently I can't get a hot, toned body by eating McDonalds and sitting on my a. Go figure. And since my love handles started forming a life of their own and practically stared asking for money, I decided that I would try and eliminate them. My only other option was to name them and give them their own checking account. Money bags, I am not. Plus, what money would I have left to buy shoes?
So Internet, I am off to the gym. I am ditching out on fhe tonight to go to a hip hop dance class. Come to think of it, I might approach my bishop and say that I need to be released from my calling because I have a class on Monday nights. I'm doing it. Maybe this fitness plan isn't such a bad idea after all.