– Spin class is really not for me. I alternated between being bored and sore. And just when I thought my poor arm muscles were safe, the instructor declared that it was time to get off the bikes and Do. Some. Weights! Whoo hoo! No one whoo hooed back. Certainly not me.
– Tomorrow I’m going to take a brisk walk on the treadmill. Boot Camp will have to wait until I can sit down without wincing again. Between yesterday’s fitness class and today’s spin class, all I have to say is Ouch. Oh, and OUCH.
– The Lean Cuisine Chicken Pesto Flatbread is yum, but really not so filling, but if I have a snack I won’t have enough points left for a decent dinner. I hate trying to lose weight.
– Also? Eating healthy is waking up my heartburn. Bleigh.
– But at least I resisted the call of the chocolate ice cream after dinner. Yay me.
– Shouldn’t the Advil I took for my aching muscles also be working on my headache?
– Why is it SO hard for me to concentrate at home even when there are no kids or husband around to disctract me? And no, it has nothing to do with the amount of cleaning that needs to take place. I’m not working, or cleaning, and yet the time keeps slipping by.
– Today I learned about the LA quake long before the news wire picked it up. How? you ask. Why, Twitter of course. Am I convincing you of it’s usefulness yet? Or am I just giving you an indication of where my time is going?
– Why does the DMV not want to let me make an appointment? Do they really want me to waste an afternoon with them? Maybe they read this blog and they want to get to know me better? Doubtful. If they read my blog they’d know I don’t need their help to waste an afternoon.
– As much as I want to be brave and make all the phonecalls I should make. Sometimes I’m really, really scared to dial the number. And so I procrastinate, and the call doesn’t get made. Rather silly since the only person I’m penalizing in the end is me.
– I’m thrilled to be freelancing, and I’m pretty sure in the end it’ll all be ok, but right now a part of me can’t stop feeling guilty for putting my family in financial staights in order to see if maybe, just maybe I can make it as a writer. It seems so… narcisistic somehow.