About a month ago, I got all jacked up on the idea of working out. Yeahhhh bro!
I was all about beating down Jillian Michaels and pretty much calling her a skank, slut, whore, biatch and every other name in the book. I was determined to get back into the groove of working out and getting “shredded”.
Yeah. That didn’t happen. I completely failed at that goal.
looks about right.
I worked out for about a week and a half straight, I was on a roll. Then everything seemed to just get in the way. The floors had to be mopped. The rugs needed a vacuuming. Bathrooms needed to be scrubbed. Loads of laundry needed to be cleaned. Re-runs of ‘The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air’ needed to be watched. I could barely fit in 20 minutes. 20 fuckin’ lone minutes for myself to work out. I’d rather all the above then get my ass kicked by Jillian. Who the hell am I? Old Amanda would call the cleaning lady and let the laundry pile up. Obviously the re-runs would be scheduled on TiVo so I could still watch them but the old me would never put anything above working out.
I even had (or so I thought) great motivation to keep it up – a wedding – but clearly that didn’t help. My solution: get a flowy, non-clingy dress to hide belly bulges.
Sigh.
Maybe I’ll get my workout addiction back sometime soon. But until then, guess I’ll have to cram push ups and bicep curls in for the rest of the week.
-Amanda
