We will have fun tomorrow, a low key session just to open your body up and get your blood flowing again.
That is a direct quote from an email I received this morning from my NEW personal trainer. Or at least, the woman I hope will be my new* personal trainer.
She seems to be fabulous, which is probably why she costs so much. But hey, does my non-existent child really need to go to college?
I mean, I did sort of realize that I've tried most every approach to weight loss except the one where I throw money at it. So why not? Is this not why I have a disposable income?
Erm, and do not think this means "disposable" like I'm swimming in money. This means "disposable" as in "I am a red-blooded American and therefore pay the bare minimums on my credit card bills and have a paltry savings so that I can spend whatever isn't going to bills on dumb crap."
Or something like that.
Please do not lecture me.
I am reminded of that episode of Sex and the City where Carrie is forced to either buy her apartment or move -- she wants to buy, of course, but she doesn't have the down payment. She makes some joke about having great shoes, though. So Miranda asks about how much each pair of her fabulous shoes costs. Carrie estimates $300. Miranda asks about how many pairs Carrie owns. She estimates 100. For a moment, Carrie thinks that equals $3,000. Then it occurs to her it's actually $30,000.
Invisible friends, I do NOT have 100 pairs of $300 shoes. I am not actually an irresponsible spender. Mostly. Except I do spend a whole lot of dollars on "going out." Drinks, dinners, lunches, breakfasts, you name it. I'll spend a ton of cash on those things.
Which led me to this horrifying conclusion: I am, actually, wearing my "disposable" income. Except instead of myriad pairs of designer heels and cute matching outfits, I have myriad CHINS. It's like I've got a hundred pairs of Manolos AROUND MY WAISTLINE.
I tell you. Self-actualization can be a real bitch.
So anyway, the long and the short of this NEW approach of mine is to take some of the money I spend on eating and drinking decadently "out" places, and throw it at a professional trainer.
Can't hurt, right?
*I swear, I am getting to the post about the BAD personal trainer.