When the alarm went off, I tried to pretend that I couldn't hear it. I thought that if I seemed like I was going to cave, then Zak would too. (Un)fortunately for me, my husband has more self-discipline than I do. He got out of bed and got ready to go to the gym. As much as I wanted to stay in bed and sleep, I couldn't be shown up by him.
After a sweat-inducing work-out, I'm back and showered and trying to decide whether I'm going back to sleep, getting back out of bed, or getting out of bed AND getting dressed.
Anyone who's seen me this summer knows that even if I'm out of bed, I'm most likely still in my pajamas. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Yep. I cook dinner in my pajamas. What? It's the summer. In San Francisco summers, we don't get to wear bikinis and soak up the sun. We wear long johns and build a fire in the fireplace.
Also, whoever invented the elliptical machine really didn't thoroughly examine the mechanics of the human body. For those of you who've never seen one, it's like a standing bicycle. It's supposed to be better for your knees than running. But I toppled over every three minutes. There's just no way to balance on a thing like that. And then when I'd fall off, the machine made this high-pitched beeping noise and told me to pedal faster.
I'd rather have to get new knees at forty.
I hope this post makes you feel enlightened.
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