I'm joining a gym tomorrow.

I just cant sleep. And I made the decision this evening to do it. To join the gym. I'm going to join it. I'll join the shit out of that gym. I'll finally have a reason to wear all the lululemon athletic wear I spent so much money on. I'll buy new runners and not feel guilty because I joined the gym. I'll run along the track, six pack flexing, glistening with good health and nice thighs.



The truth is. I'll waste so much time, money and effort to get a service that I will probably hate, never want to do and I'll probably look like a monster the entire time. I'll just stand there in the corner in oversized sweatpants, breathing heavy and sweating like a pig. I'll stare at the tall blond in the corner and picture chopping her perfectly bouncing ponytail off with a kitchen knife. And then I'll think up an awkward, careful, desperate excuse for quitting and pretend the entire debacle never happened.




Its just that I'm really tired and its 2am and I cant sleep. Cody s out and I had too many cups of coffee too late at night and I'm starting to panic about getting up at 8am and about how many times I've used 'alot' instead of a lot and the fact that my grammar might not be as good as I've always thought it was.


2am is an awful time to contemplate your grammar. It commits you to doing things like joining a gym.

Which I am going to do.

I'm also going to start illustrating my posts. Which is copycatting, from other bloggers, I know. But it just feels so good. I cant deny my impulses right now. I think that's a pretty good sign that its time to force myself into sleep.

I'm joining a gym tomorrow.

I just cant sleep. And I made the decision this evening to do it. To join the gym. I'm going to join it. I'll join the shit out of that gym. I'll finally have a reason to wear all the lululemon athletic wear I spent so much money on. I'll buy new runners and not feel guilty because I joined the gym. I'll run along the track, six pack flexing, glistening with good health and nice thighs.



The truth is. I'll waste so much time, money and effort to get a service that I will probably hate, never want to do and I'll probably look like a monster the entire time. I'll just stand there in the corner in oversized sweatpants, breathing heavy and sweating like a pig. I'll stare at the tall blond in the corner and picture chopping her perfectly bouncing ponytail off with a kitchen knife. And then I'll think up an awkward, careful, desperate excuse for quitting and pretend the entire debacle never happened.




Its just that I'm really tired and its 2am and I cant sleep. Cody s out and I had too many cups of coffee too late at night and I'm starting to panic about getting up at 8am and about how many times I've used 'alot' instead of a lot and the fact that my grammar might not be as good as I've always thought it was.


2am is an awful time to contemplate your grammar. It commits you to doing things like joining a gym.

Which I am going to do.

I'm also going to start illustrating my posts. Which is copycatting, from other bloggers, I know. But it just feels so good. I cant deny my impulses right now. I think that's a pretty good sign that its time to force myself into sleep.