Peekaboo...

Hi there.

As I type, my left tricep is on a package of frozen Cascadian Farm Organic Broccoli. I have another bag under my left hip.

Why?

I don't have an icepack.

See, I've been having lot's of body issues lately. So many that they have triggered some bippy episodes (more on those later). Well, hubby was concerned that my frustrations would launch me into full swing eating disorder mode. Didn't want him worrying, so I went to the gym and got a trainer.

My thoughts were that I have too much going on in my life to plan work outs (more on that later, too).

I saw the trainer on Tuesday. I was excited.

You know what, skip the nice-ities. I know me! I know my body. I've had it all my life. I don't give a flying fluffball if you've been training people fr 25 years! Damn!

I told him that many of the exercises were too much weight. But he was "trying to gauge my fitness level". After running track, working in gyms, etc, I know what I need to do. I simply chose the lazy way out because the disposable income was there.

It's my fault, I bought the "don't quit" bullsh*t and now I’m laying on broccoli. I can’t work, can't run errands because I'm too sore!

NOTE TO SELF: Trainer fired.