Better Late than Never???

Forgive me Father, for I have written my blog a day late. I wish I had a good excuse, but the truth of the matter is, I prioritized sleep over blogging. And I’d probably do it again. But enough of my slackitude; on to bigger (or should I say smaller) and better things. The scale finally budged, and in the right direction I might add. Not a lot, but I’m a pound and a half closer to my massage! Three and a half pounds to go until my naked rub-down! Yeeeeeeehaw! I’m a little exclamation point happy today! It’s been a good day. The weather’s nice, students didn’t drive me bat shit crazy, and I got in a good workout. It’s one of those days that makes me want to shave my legs and take on the world.

So this week I did something I’ve never done before. I met with a personal trainer. It started when I was at the gym and I saw this girl doing fancy pants crunches, so I asked her for some moves. She told me she was actually a trainer and I could have a free session because I’m just that awesome. Or it’s the gym’s policy. But I’m sticking with the awesome theory. So on Saturday she whipped me into shape with a personalized workout dedicated to making my thighs burn and my triceps quiver. I’m not kidding when I say that my thighs have ached for the past three days. And not in an “oh, this is mildly uncomfortable but I barely notice it” kind of way. I mean in a whiny, miserable, can’t climb stairs without wanting to amputate something kind of way. She worked me to the bone! The only complaint I had was that she was too easy on me! I was sort of hoping for a Nazi Bitch who would call me demeaning names and kick my ass, but if I complained about something being too hard, she offered to get me lighter weights! She wasn’t supposed to give into my whiny whims! It’s like at Christmas time when I beg people to tell me what they’ve bought, but if they so much as hint at what my present is, I throw a big ol’ hissy fit. So in the end, she taught me the moves, but I ended up kicking my own ass.

My other accomplishment this week was surviving without dessert! I had an almost 100% success rate. (A student brought me a lemon bar, and it would have been RUDE not to eat it). I may have thick thighs, but I’m polite, damn it! But other than that, I’ve been sweet free for seven days. The ultimate challenge will be in about two days when it’s my, um, lady time to put it politely. And all I want to do during that time is weep and suck down frozen yogurt like it’s going out of style. So we’ll see how that one goes… But as for what I’m giving up this week, I’ve decided on diet soda. I’ve never been a huge soda drinker, but when Barrett picks up a 24 pack, somehow, they magically end up in my lunch. And as it turns out, those fake sugars give you cancer and yada yada yada. So, next five weeks equals no dessert and noooooo rum and cokes for me. Heaven help me. Have an ass-kicking week everyone and I’ll be back to report on Monday, I promise.