I've discovered that I get awfully crafty when I'm sick. I've made countless pieces of jewelry and done some rather nifty dyeing and batiking while confined to my house, too. One thing I haven't done, however, is any form of exercise whatsoever. Eating well isn't too difficult for me, because I don't eat meat and I love a lot of stuff that's actually good for me. So fortunately that's not the big challenge. It's the damn exercise, and I did not a LICK of it all week.
Gah.
I should point out that, for a change, I actually feel antsy to get back on track with my daily activities of becoming less bloblike. (Not physically, just like...metaphorically. Or something.) I'm a busy enough person that, in the past, I might not really have noticed that I didn't make time for exercise all week. But not this time! This week, while sneezing and coughing like a 3-pack-a-day smoker (awesome feeling, btw), the actual desire to get some exercise nagged at me a little.
Bitches, that has GOT to count for something.
Something else: I'll admit I take some perverse pleasure in losing weight while sick. Come on, you know you've done this. But this doesn't seem to happen anymore. WTF? I thought that was like, the ONE perk of feeling crappy for a week. See, now I'm hearing the doctor saying "well, you ARE 38..." Is this another 38 thing? You don't get to put your skinny jeans on after you've been sick? Because come on, that's kinda bullshit.
Whatever, it seems I have to continue eating well and exercising. Apparently Mrs. Obama didn't get those delts by having the flu.
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