The Sympathy Belly

Know what makes getting turned down from yet another job better?
Candy Bars.

Unfortunately, I don't have any change to hit up the vending machine, so my candy bender is not to be.

I'm trying to set up a couple of internships this summer (instead of working), at different places around town. I'm very interested in cooking and improving my skills, and I would love to be able to head to a confectionery, or coffee shop, or home made wine shop (ahem) once a week to learn whatever there is to learn. And to take back what I learned and make my friends fat.

Which, by the way, is the inspiration for today's entry title. My boyfriend, W, informed me yesterday that he needed to go back to the gym because he was growing a "sympathy belly". For me. Because he is sympathetic to my waistline.

I don't WANT him to be sympathetic to my waistline! I'm not knocked up! My waistline is a pre-existing condition, not an unfortunate car accident.

I laughed at the time (and I'm kind of chuckling now), but REALLY? And the worst part about it is that when he takes his flab off, it's going to take him about three seconds and three sit ups to do it.

Today I'm going to the track and running, if the weather holds. If not, I'll be spending the night stewing about W's sorry assed Buddha belly. But I'll do it with a salad.

Get Back To Where You Once Belonged

Peeps, I have been using Spring as a full proof excuse to not do a damned thing. My last day of spring break is today, and I'm sorry to report (but report I shall, because this partly about accountability) that I have not been to the gym in two weeks. Couple that with a Dr. Who premiere celebration, assorted Spring holidays, countless ball games (complete with beer!) and last night's time traveling trip back to 2005 (A reunion of sorts, most of which taking place in a diner), and I've managed to put a couple pounds back on the scale (Yes, W. Just a couple). I gotta get back to it, because I feel like a sack of potatoes.
Time to set some new goals.

Goal 1 - Post progress, or lack there of, every other day.
I know this'll make my blog pop on your feed more, folks, but I was serious when I said that this was for accountability.

Goal 2 - Get back to the damned gym (or the track, the baseball diamond, SOMEWHERE) every other day. No more "well, I ran around with the kids all day so I don't need to work out". That's just bullshit.

Goal 3 - Get back to eating better. My Easter candy is all gone, I'm about to go back to work, and there are no parties in my future.

This is my week, kids. I can feel it. And yes, I know the week is half over. Baby steps.

In other news, jump over to http://mdhomevintner.blogspot.com/, where my industrious friend is making delicious sounding things. (Very proud of you, D!)

Keep on rocking me, baby.