I need to workout in the morning. If not, it’s tough to get done. Plus there is an underlying sense of dread present throughout my entire day. The afternoon is when it really kicks in. I have to do things like pass on leftover Otis Spunkmeyer cookies that our office manager made for clients. I try to pump myself up for the imminent workout session during my commute home. I alternate upbeat songs (i.e. Katy Perry’s Firework) with the following self pep talk, “workout, workout, workout, workout, workout, workout.” (Creative, no? I'm like a modern day Tony Robbins!)
When I get home I immediately put on my gear because, obviously, I’m going to workout. It’s just that I need to do a few crucial things first. Like the laundry. I haven’t given a second thought to the four, heaping piles of laundry in weeks. But right now… pre-workout… they’re an immediate priority. I also need to organize the closet where we keep the board games. We haven’t played a board game since we moved to
. Honestly, we haven’t played one since, probably, Spring of 2007..but what a disaster that closet is!!!! Who lives like this?! Lastly, I must do Internet research on Houston recycling centers. I’ve been meaning to “go green” for ages now. And there’s no time like the present, am I right?? Houston
Danny comes home to me on some random composting website, wearing nothing but Nike shorts and a sports bra. He begins to make dinner.
“Try this.” he says, carefully lifting a spoon of spaghetti sauce towards me.
I open my mouth but instead of trying the sauce, I berate him. “I CAN’T EAT!!” I snap, offended. “I HAVE TO WORKOUT!!!” I go on to tell (yell) at him the woes of being a modern day woman. “I just have so much on my plate, you know!!? I have a full-time job, I have to take care of the dog, I have to clean this huge (exaggerated for drama) house!! All while keeping up my figure!”
Danny calmly interrupts my tirade to remind me that I haven’t taken the dog out for weeks and that the cleaning lady comes tomorrow. “Why don’t you just have a nice glass of wine and sit here and talk to me while I finish dinner?” he suggests. “You can workout tomorrow.”
I sigh defeatedly, but relieved. "Okay." I agree. (Plus, a glass of wine!? How good does that sound?)
“I’ll workout tomorrow.” I tell him (more myself.) “But I have to run by the cleaners tomorrow morning. So I’ll just do it tomorrow night.”