YAAAAY!

YAAAAY! 

That's just me being totally elated.  No, I didn't get a job yet, but I rejoined the gym today and my endorphins are RAGING.  It might also be the anabolic steroids that I'm sure the girls' volleyball team slipped into the water fountains, but still.  I feel great!

I'm sure I'll be nearly crippled tomorrow, but right now, I'm so HIGH.  On life.  And endorphins.  And wine.  And possibly steroids, but only time and the appearance of male secondary sex characteristics will tell.

It's been almost two months since I last set foot in a gym, and I've been missing it something fierce.  So today I finally broke down and rejoined the gym.  It's been chilly and gross here for the past couple days, and I was starting to get a little depressed by my inability to exercise outside.  After some intense deliberations, I finally talked myself into being okay with spending money on a gym membership.  It was a heated dialogue between my frugal self and my not-wanting-to-be-sloppy self.  The ultimate justifications are as follows:

1. I hate wasting anything.  Except time, apparently.  But wasting anything else, like food, or money, makes me ill.  So, by spending money on a gym membership, I'll be motivated to go all the time.

2.  Television.  I had almost forgotten what it was like to watch something current.  At least, anything current that isn't a 3-minute internet meme.  I even sort of missed commercials. 

3.  It's a reason to leave the house every day and be in close proximity to other living things that aren't my husband or my cat.  I love them both, but sometimes it's important to be exposed to other people so I can be reminded why I'm a misanthropic shut-in.  Also, on my walk home, I can stop and pick up a free New York Times so I can indulge my crossword puzzle addiction.  And KenKen.  Don't even get me started on KenKen.  It's like Sudoku on crack, and it blows my mind.  I live a very sheltered existence. 

4.  I am physically incapable of functioning when the mercury dips below 65.  Breathing cold air hurts the inside of my nose and chest, and my nose runs constantly.  My skin starts cracking and falling off.  My fingers turn white and go numb.  Basically, I am a mutant, and cold weather triggers my hideous transformation.  If I don't want to be a flabby, depressed mutant, I must exercise, and I must do it in a climate controlled environment.  Otherwise, I will spend the next 8 months huddled under a pile of blankets eating Vitamin D pills and crying until the thermometer creeps back up to a safe, happy 70 degrees.


So that's how I made my case to myself.  Everybody wins!  Or just me.  Same thing.