Gym time, family time, craft time and a little time for me.
I am back at the gym. Granted it’s only three days a week but three is better than none, which is what I WAS devoting to my gym lately. I know it’s busy and it’s hectic and there’s a million things going on but I really needed to carve out some time for exercising or I was going to be nose first in a mess of depression again and as much as I loved the experience (can you hear the sarcasm?) I am not interested in doing that ever again.
The gym is an interesting place, just ask Waiter Rant. He’s got a funny post about that here.
Years ago I went to a class called Ripped, and it was full of some pretty ripped bodies. It was easy to see how they got so in shape, the class was brutal. I couldn’t go back to the next class because I could barely walk, let alone jump on adn off a step bench with dumb bells in each hand. This week I started that class again. I have a had a baby since the last time I went so I’m now in even worse shape but I am determined to get cute. I mean, I am cute but I want to be hot. I want to set off fire alarms, I want to be THAT hot! I think I can do it. I’m tired and everything hurts from my eyebrows down but I really want this. I don’t want to walk like an 18 month old though. You know, the walk where they don’t bend their knees at all. That’s what I look like because my legs hurt too bad to use them.
Speaking of things I really want, I want more me time. I have been stressing out over Chuck’s family Christmas party which is held at our house again this year. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking every detail so that THIS year I have everything prepared. This year everyone will leave amazed at how wonderful it went, how beautiful the house looked, how organized and perfect everything is. Trying to achieve this utopia of Christmas parties has created a slight anxiety and panic attacks and I think if I keep it up my husband might go looking for a younger, hotter, less crazy version of the real me and the Christmas party is just not worth all the hassle of a divorce so I am giving up the idea of a perfect party and settling for a realistic version, a fun and entertaining party where things might not be perfect but everyone leaves with a full belly and their faces hurt from laughing. Sounds like a pretty decent party if you ask me.
Three cheers for less stress!
