Shape up or ship out!

This job brings lots of ass on chair time, so I bought myself (and anyone else who wants to use it) a punching bag this weekend to get the old heart rate up. "Back in the day" I had one along with a weight bench. One of those may be coming along soon as well. We do not have much free space. I would spend hours in the basement beating the shit out of it all the while imagining my favorite teacher, classmate, or just a event that didn't sit well with me. I even got G into it. Before you knew we were beating the shit out of one another. If not in the basement, in the parking lot of Maxine's. Anyway I'm looking forward to getting started. My plan is once I get home to eat a small breakfast (a bowl of cereal), then punch away for about a hour or so, do some sit ups and push ups, finally finishing up with a shower.

It's hard to watch what you eat when there is so much bad shit on the shelves. We have a ton of crap. If crap is all that there is to eat, then ones breath tends to smell like shit. Even if it's not the only thing, if its there its too tempting to overlook at times. Whats more addictive? Crack or Nibbles with Gibble's cheese curls? I have yet to find that place in my heart that is set to avoiding the crap all together. I don't think I can. I'll do my best. Sort of how I feel about my other habbits...

Am I going in this alone? Probably. "Sissypants" doesn't seem to share my desires with the bag saying "I just don't think it will be that much fun". Well thats all fine well and good. I can do it. Watch me.

I may fall on this blog as my shoulder with struggles. Sometimes I am my own punching bag. I tend to let things drive me crazy. I had one of those episodes this weekend. Cause J and I a couple days of shitty feelings. So if your reading and you think I'm whining or crying the blues it's because I am. If you don't like it, how do they say, suck it!

My goal: 30-40 pounds.

Bring on the pain.

Later.

I love you Julie.