A nearby gym has been courting me. Someone saw me walking around on the street, saw how out of shape I was, stopped me and told me I needed to get to a gym a.s.a.p. Ok, that didn't really happen. What happened was that I called the gym to get info on prices and such. Of course they don't give package prices out over the phone and instead want to me go in and take a test drive. Mistake #2: I gave them my phone number (because the first mistake was calling). So now they're hounding me calling every day telling me they have some promos and that I should really go in.
So, for the longest time, I had a mental list of things I'd do if I had more time. I have more time now. Also, I need to exercise. I think it's time. I finally gave in and made an appointment for later on today. They will have a drum band at hand so that they can play that dreaded music that plays while someone is about to be beheaded in a guillotine. It'll be played right before they take my measurements and weight. Ugh. Time to leave the lovely land of denial and oblivion. Once weighed, someone will either slap me on the face or hit me upside the head with the scale. Then they'll proceed to wire my mouth shut. Either that or they'll dangle a bag of cheetos just out of my reach while I run for it on the treadmill.
Yeah, I'm laughing now but I'll see how I'll be later today. I'll keep you posted.
feeling: like I'm about to have my last meal
listening to: The Backyardigans