Wacky Wednesday
Not really wacky thankfully as it's only 7 a.m. Just Hump Day. I've always hated that term. It always made me think of some dog (particularly a Basset Hound don't ask) humping an old pillow rather than the middle of the week. When people say- YEAH! It's Hump Day! or Happy Hump Day! I always see that nasty old hound going at it with the faded blue pillow and think - eeww! Let's not!
Anyway, we made it. On Monday I didn't think we would. It's Wednesday. I have articles to write, and projects to work on and oh yeah, raise my kid. I also have an ass to workout as it's almost bathing suit season. I just bought a new one which I hope to debut at the hood's kiddie splash park in a few weeks sans pasty thighs. I should formulate some sort of bathing suit ready workout plan or manifesto, but I already know that is a lost cause. Maybe if I spray on enough self-tanner people will only notice how hideously wrong I look and not that my thighs are less than toned to perfection like I want them to be. Sounds like a plan.
So off we go to start our day of working out, keeping T.D. from blood curdling screams which then sends me off to CVS to quickly pick up another month's supply of birth control, and maybe get in some well-deserved nap time.
Happy Basset Hound humping a blue faded pillow day to you!
Good luck! In two weeks I'll be on a beach in Florida with jiggly thighs and big bowl of Jello disguised as my tummy. My gym closed two weeks ago and I haven't joined a new one. And they have to let out my dress. Yikes.
ReplyDeleteOn another note, tummy? Did I, a 30-year-old woman, just use that term for myself? Eeesh.
Ew yeah...I've always been a little ambivalent about the "hump day" expression, too.
ReplyDeleteDon't worry about your thighs. Everyone else will be too worried about their own thighs to even notice anyone elses!
And, as thighs go, mine are pretty damn pasty, too. And cellulite ridden. Now where did I put those donuts?