Feelin the Burn, and I Want to Kick its Butt

Yesterday I made the ginormous mistake of doing some physical activity. I attended a class at the gym entitled "Chisel". It should have been called "The Deepest Darkest Fiery Depths of H-E Double Hockey Sticks". Yeah, that would do. Honestly, all I wanted to do today was sleep so I wouldn't have to feel the sheer pain that I feel in my legs. Every time I sit down (or stand up for that matter) you'd hear a groan of agony aptly described as a laboring cow. I want to cry. I was sitting on the couch reading the greatest book ever (no, not Twilight or the Bible) and I heard the buzzer on the dryer. I seriously have never loathed laundry more in my life than at that moment. The thoughts of standing up (FOR MY LAUNDRY) were enough to make me curl up in the fetal position and cry. And the worst part is, last night I was trying to carry my gigantic child (if you recall from 2 posts ago, the one trying to kill me) down the stairs at my parents house, in heeled boots. I have never feared for his life more than at that moment. I thought I was going to drop him right on his sweet little round, red head.

I was making great strides in the "getting in shape" aspect of my life until yesterday. I am not sure how long it will be until I recover from "TDDFDOHELL" just to turn around and do it again on Wednesday! Woo Hoo. Can't wait. Just kidding, I can wait, an eternity actually. But if I wait that long, my rear end and my abs will remain a gelatinous, squishy mess. And that won't do. No sir-ee.