I deserve abs for this.

I'm always looking for ways to postpone working out. I just hate it that much. If results were instantaneous, things would be different. Alas, no, these things take time. So for the last several hours, instead of paying my dues, I've rearranged the rooms of our apartment and re-hung pictures. It looks good and all of you should visit us this instant. But now that everything is in its place, I would just like to lay down in the pajamas I've been wearing since last night. Give me a little popcorn, a little Breaking Bad, and I'll be fine.

If only.

One of the worst parts about moving away from my girlfriends is that I am so far from everyone/anyone who appreciated my attitude towards working out. There was a time in my life when an ever-softer body was, if not a group goal, an amusing issue. With my work friends and roommates, I would laugh and laugh, pleased as PUNCH to eat a pile of oreos instead of baby carrots; to wear the same pair of pants day after day because they fit; to have endless conversations about what we were eating and what we wanted to eat.

Me, caressing a shake, at my bachelorette party. 

Steven doesn't think it's as funny as my girlfriends when I would rather inhale pasta than expel calories. I know, I don't get it either. But yesterday, I promised him that I would work out every day from now until February 15th, and work out I must.

Now if you'll excuuuuse me...