I sometimes feel like everyone in the world has the key to a secret code for their alarm clock; and that when they punch it in, they get a deposit of two extra hours in their time bank. My bet for what they’re doing with their extra one hundred twenty minutes a day? Working out.
I swear, every time I run into a friend or meet up with a group of pals, every single person around me has just finished up an “awesome workout”, which I’m hesitant to believe for a couple of reasons: 1) they look too composed, and from experience, I know that a real workout takes out all the color in your face, dyes it red, and then flushes it back into your head, and 2) there are not enough treadmills in this city for that to be possible. Correction: not enough OPEN treadmills for that to be possible.
You know what I think? I think these people are lying about their “awesome workouts” just to make me jealous. To make me feel bad that I literally rolled myself to every meeting today, using my desk chair that is not even an exercise ball. It’s just a plain old desk chair! Well for your information, my desk chair and I are very happy together, and I have no desire to stray.
I won’t be made to feel guilty for the fact that my fitness routine includes 15 pushups in the morning, followed by nothing. And by nothing, I mean running around this city getting my hustle on. Somedays I can hardly find time to use the bathroom, let alone a treadmill. Maybe I’m just in denial. Maybe I have awful time management skills or the clock on my iPhone is just a P.O.S. Then again, maybe these are the real workouts everyone is secretly doing:
-Angry but vigorous sex with an ex-boyfriend, occasionally
– Firefly pose when using the bathroom in the morning and both the toilet seat and floor are freezing
– Squatting, rather than sitting on the lap of a friend in a crowded car for the duration of the ride to give the impression of weighing 30 pounds
– Army-crawling across the floor, after a TruTV marathon finishes and they catch a glimpse of their neighbor taking out the ‘trash’, which hello, is NEVER JUST “TRASH”, OK?!
– Climbing, galloping, vaulting, shimmying past, knocking down and then propping up the IKEA furntiture that has been sitting half-assembled, half-in the box – and right in front of your front door – for the last week
-Run/Walking to their desk on a Monday morning to google “Downtown Abbey episode guide” (again) after forgetting (again) that it airs on Sunday nights and everyone’s going to be talking about in the break room this morning
-Run/Walking to the breakroom to participate in the aforementioned Downton Abbey discussion
-Rolling supersized duffel bags filled with clothes to Goodwill down the stairs; lifting them into car or train car; and lifting them into the donation bin which is really, really high up
– Walking around a city block up to five times before going into a restaurant so as to not appear too eager about meeting a date, nemesis, potential date, or any combination of these three things
-Speed-walking to avoid the Greenpeace, PETA, or any other social organization that tries to get money from people walking down the street
-Finally, on a night when they miraculously have nowhere to be, they turn on tv and find “Save the Last Dance” is playing, and well. You know what happens next.
Gon’ do it, do it, do it. [via]
top image [via]
