It was but a matter of time before I dove head first off the deep end. I knew it, you knew it - lets not even pretend we didn't.
I tried to resist but then I just snapped and now sane to me is getting up three days a week at 4:40 a.m. and going to fitness boot camp.
From 5:30a.m. to 6:30a.m. on these days I drag my jiggly (but soon to be quarter-bouncable) ass out of bed, throw on my yoga pants - which have become one of my new favorite items in my wardrobe - and go work out. Hard. Inorite? In a world of peep toe heels and slouchy boots I'm getting all giddy about my yoga pants and Asics tenees *sigh*. Then after an hour of being pushed to my max and sweating like a whore in church I head to work. (Truthfully, while I feel great once I'm done that is the only part of this adventure in which I actually feel great)
As if that wasn't enough, I thought it would be completely mentally sound to volunteer to chair the annual Dad's spaghetti dinner for 500 little elementary school children and their parents. Yeehaw! (And yes I know I'm not a Dad. Thanks smartasses) This is of course in addition to working and mom-ing and trying to have some semblance of me time.
I'm not sure what's come over me. I'm considering going to a doctor because this has got to be a sickness of some sort.
I mean I couldn't actually be getting it together and becoming like an overacheiver.
I know I couldn't keep a straight face when saying that and I'm damn sure you laughed when reading it.
Me overacheiving? This is clearly just a momentary lapse. Surely,I'll be back to my wine guzzling,couch-loving,fried-food eating,trash-tv watching self in no time