I hate how I feel body-wise at this time of the year. The weather, the lack of sunlight, the bulky clothes, the fact that I miss dragonboating and the food binge that started at Halloween have all conspired to make me think that not shaving my legs for 3 months is a brilliant idea. In fact, over the weekend I got invited to a friend's hot tub and I didn't go because I was depressed about my legs yet too miserable to pick up a flipping razor. Take that winter. I'm sure old Jack Frost is crying little ice cubey tears because of my decision. Ha.
What I need is to get my flabby ass to the gym because I hate exercising (or even going for that matter) outdoors in the winter. Unfortunately, for some ungodly reason, flashing my bestest 100 watt smile at the hardbody behind the membership desk doesn't get them to press the little buzzer thingie to let me in. They deal in actual currency. Of course to get said currency I need a job. Then, naturally, I wouldn't have time for the gym. Why is life so unfair?
Well, I'm off to buy a pile of scratchies. People, it's the only way.