So then instead I log onto Pinterest for hours and eat chocolate.
Although only a little bit. I've finally gotten fed up enough with the post-two-babies wubby (that's a real word) belly to commit to getting rid of it. I've been trying to introduce more vegetarian meals to the family anyway, and I've never really been a meat person. Hold in your dirty jokes. I don't really go for steak or pork or even chicken that much anymore, but I cannot be a normal functioning member of society that doesn't routinely stab people without chocolate. Cue all the amazing vegan blogs out there that have dessert recipes without added sugar and some even include vegetables. THANK YOU INTERNET.
I've also made friends with this bitch
I love to run but it is hard on your knees, and only really tones your legs. So I alternate running days with Jillian. It's only 20 minutes and it is crazy intense. I also have her 6 Week Sixpack DVD and it is KILLAH. Her voice does grate on my nerves after a while so I've been muting her and laughing when she starts yelling into the camera. I can't hear you, Jillian.
Last night I set out all my running stuff and remembered to plug in my iPod and everything and went to bed early. And then of course I slept until 7. And rocketed out of bed yelling "OHMYGODeveryoneupwe'rerunninglategahhhhhhhh!!" and hustled through the morning.
The Co-op is a 10 minute walk from my work and we needed the organic apples that don't make me break out in hives, so because I didn't work out this morning I decided to walk there at lunch. And 5 minutes in I realize the super cute pair of shoes I got from that shoe store who's prices make me cringe were rubbing my toes in all the wrong ways. The shoes that were subconsciously convincing me in the store that they would lovingly cradle my feet because I was willing to spend a truckload of money on them. I made it to the Co-op but on the way back was debating calling the Mister to ask him for a ride for the last 3 blocks. Then I remembered - this crappy mini-mall that I'm passing has a Dollar Store in it! Three whole dollars later and I was in bliss.
|Dollar Store flip-flops, crafted by angels. Complete with chipped pedicure and angry red welts left by Nazi-shoes.|
The moral of this story (?) is of course that the Dollar Store rules, expensive shoes lie and Jillian Michaels will yell at you but you can always mute her. Or something like that.