I bit the bullet.

I mulled it over for a long time. I reasoned that it was just too tough to find the right time to begin. Then I heard about a great deal and I bit the bullet. After all, those of you who know me in real life know that I looove a bargain. I'm officially enrolled in fitness boot camp. While I like the idea of a sweet personal trainer who likes to accompany me on leisurely walks while giving me pep talks and then going to Starbucks for low fat drinks - I must face reality. I have plenty of gal pals who do that already and I'm still out of shape. So tomorrow morning I'll be attending my fitness evaluation. Obviously these people have never met me. Hello, you can't evaluate my fitness because I'M NOT FIT! Anyway, I'm sure the morning will be filled with twinges of humiliation and plenty of laughter. No - not the I'm so jovial because this evaluation is more fun than a barrel of monkeys sort of laughter. I'm talking about the gee it's really awkward when you record my BMI and measure the girth of my left thigh sort of laughter. The strangely inappropriate nervous laughter that makes bystanders wonder if I just might be a few fries short of a happy meal. Well obviously I'm not lacking in the french fry department. How do you think I got myself into this state of un-fitness (is that even a word)? I digress. I'm fortunate to have a friend to help me endure this torment although it won't exactly be torturous for her. This is the friend who in a panic one day told me that one of her thighs *might* have touched the other thigh while she was showering. She was appalled. I fought to muster up some sort of sympathy. Honey, my thighs have been close friends since the moment that little stick had two pink lines. As if the moment I announced, "I'm pregnant" my whole body surrendered. It's been downhill since then.
I'll report back to you tomorrow. Right now I have to enjoy what will be my last Krispy Kreme donut for quite a while.