I never look as good all day as I do at the gym.
It’s aggravating because for the rest of the day, I look like shredded wheat. So, I get 2 hours of strength and coordination only to blunder through the rest of my day with my klutzy-ass and my rusted-tin-man-body…? It’s like that, huh? Without my oil can? Fabulous!!
There is something about that, though I don’t think I can explain it. I talk a lot about exercising because it’s important, and people should know. (Sad people don’t exercise, happy people do.? Something like that.) .
Last year made you think exercising wasn’t necessary because of all the mental and spiritual strain, but you have to do it. Do you wanna live? (DYWL)
The point of that story is that I used to go all day never looking good, and now it’s down to 23 hours. You can do it. You can totally fucking do it. I am the laziest fucker you know…
But I do wanna live.
(Fun fact- I never really know if my body will function. It happens. I used to be able to win every cartwheel contest, and now stairs are the enemy.)