ugh the gym

     Oh gym, how I loathe thee.  I've never been great at being consistent with anything outside of work.  Especially when it's something that I'm really not that interested in doing in the first place like say, the gym.  My husband is a gym-aholic.  He's seeking help.  I have a love hate relationship with his condition because I love the way he looks but hate that now I feel like I need to look good too.  Dang you and your hot body!  So I'm constantly battling with myself to get better at going and so far it's going...ok.  

     Reasons I hate the gym, overhearing conversations going something like this, "this morning I drank a dozen raw eggs to get huge like rocky", you my friend are a fine specimen and good luck with that salmonella.  Reason number two, the chicks that come to the gym wearing almost nothing (I'm sure you have a great waxer but I did not want to see your bikini wax from across the room) with your hair down and a face buried under 3 inches of make up.  It's pretty clear you did not come here to work out.  There really has to be a more suitable place for you to wear that outfit and to find a date.  The club perhaps?  Reason number three, um it hurts!  Hello muscle I did not know even existed, sorry about yesterday, I guess you're still upset about it; I will soak you in a hot tub until you cease to try and murder me.

     Reasons I don't hate the gym.  I couldn't bring myself to write "reasons I like the gym",  "like" felt like a strong word.  Sooo...  Umm... Hang on, I know there was something... Oh yes I remember, I realized I much more enjoy waking up and thinking "eh" rather than "oh for Pete’s sake.  Looks like another baggy sweater day.  What is this, day 12 of this look?  I'm sure no one has noticed."  And Todd likes it when I go with him.  Oh the sacrifices I make.