It’s me. The end.

Well, that settles that.  I’ve finally figured out how crazy starts.  NOT pretending I have my own cooking show.  NOT living inside my head where I am skinny and fabulous.  Nooooo.  Those would be a much nicer way to begin.  Instead …

I’ve joined a dadgum gym.

I swear, my body’s been taken over by extraterrestrials.  Cuz seriously, ya’ll know I wasn’t in my right mind when I signed the dotted line.  I’ve been brainwashed.  Bamboozled.  Bullied by the Queen Barbie herself.

Poo on that Mama.

Turns out, mama gets the giggles when she puts her first born child through the torture that is the Elliptical.  I mean, have you been on this machine?  It’s practically barbaric.  It was probably a World War II torture device in another life.  I swear, I was on it for no more than 30 seconds, and my thighs were on fire.  Mama say, “Don’t lift your feet off the peddles when you walk.”  I say, “Get me off this damn thing.”

I did fare better on the bicycle and the treadmill.  At least on those things, I can trick myself into thinking I am simply going out for a latte or something.  Cuz I’m pretty sure nobody ellipticals to the coffee shop.  Or at least not the crazy ones.

However, mom gets on the treadmill beside me and kicks it up to 4.7 miles per hour.  I’m going 1.5 and sweating like it’s my damn job.  Showoff.  So I increase my speed a little bit, and I promise you this:  If I wasn’t holding on for dear life, I’d be chillin’ face down in someone else’s sweaty footprint.  Cuz those treadmills keep moving, even if you ain’t.

Brad decides he gonna show that mama a thing or two, and forces her into a rousing game of racquetball.  Turns out, mama is scared of racquetball.  Cuz there be flying balls every where, and they will hit you if you’re not looking.

Come to think of it, I was kind of scared of it too.  Especially after I went running down the court to retrieve one of my balls, and I sort of peed my pants a little bit.   Crap.

But on the bright side, I weighed about 5 pounds lighter when we were done.  Then mama said their scales were broken, and I about slapped her in the neck.  Guess I’m gonna actually have to work when we go work out.  Another reason to believe the universe is stupid.

Get back home, sweaty but exhilarated.  Feeling good about the exercise, doing something healthy for my body.

So I had myself a really, really enormous brownie.

Whaaa…..?????

Baby steps, ya’ll.  Baby steps.