So as part of my annoyingly positive ‘year of 2015’ shenanigans, I am determined to get back into shape. Dating shape. Not the roll-down-the-hill-at-top-speed kinda shape I’m in now. I’ve let things go for too long and I’m at a point where I either lose the weight I’ve managed to pack on in the past year, or resign myself to a life of celibacy. And cats. Can’t forget the cats.
I had always planned to start my ‘get fit no so quick’ program the Tuesday that I got back into town. The fact that when I stepped on the scale this morning that it actually said ‘error’ and then promptly broke (not in half, silly – I’m not THAT big) kind of supports my decision that now’s the time.
As I measure all things dating by the number of cocktails involved and as cocktails are off limits for the next
long little while, I’m going to have to figure out what else to write about because, lucky you, I’m going to try to write more. Write more, whine less. Oy vey, what the hell am I going to write about?